A Redhead's Tale of Love, Life, and Lesbians
by MirellaArabesque
Summary: The ups and downs of Ginny and Hermione's relationship. Ginny's POV. Rated M for later chapters. Slightly AU- Fred survives, Epilogue disregarded. CHAPTER 24 UP 6/8/11
1. Oh Crap

DISCLAIMER: I am not JKR, therefore I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

* * *

Shivering, I stepped into Flourish and Blotts and stamped to try and get some snow off my boots. Then I inhaled deeply- I had never been a huge fan of reading, but I loved the smell of books. It was somehow comforting.

"I'll be with you in just a moment," called a female voice, buried somewhere in bookshelves to my left. I walked to one of them and began to scan the titles. My copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ was worn past all hope- pages were falling out, they were stained, ripped, or the words were faded. It had lasted me all through Hogwarts, but it was finally dead, and I needed a new one.

"Can I help- Ginny!" I looked to my left and jumped when I saw Hermione standing there. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she was wearing jeans, a large, loose, red sweater, and furry boots. She laughed at my surprise, and after a quick hug (that set my heart to racing), I said, "I didn't know you worked here!"

She rolled her eyes. "I've been applying to the Ministry, but so far no luck." When I asked her what department, she replied, "Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, hopefully. You know, I want to work for house-elf rights, and maybe then move on to other creatures."

"And they haven't hired you?" I asked incredulously. "They must be mad!"

Hermione sighed. "Well, you know, I'm young. I've got time. And it's not so bad working here. Which I should be doing right now," she grinned. "Can I help you find anything?"

I held up the deceased copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ that I had brought along with me. She took it and frowned at me as she flipped through the pages. "Honestly, Ginny, this is horrible! Come on." She took my wrist and dragged me towards the back. At a shelf in a far corner, she pulled out a brand new book. "Here you are."

"Thanks, 'Mione. Hey, what time do you get off?" I inquired.

"Not 'til four," she replied. "Why?"

I swallowed deeply to prepare myself. "Well, I was wondering if you wanted to meet at the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. I haven't seen you in forever; we need to catch up."

Hermione grinned. "Alright," she said. "Four fifteen at the Leaky Cauldron. It's a date." My heart nearly stopped.

I checked my watch- it was around eleven. That would give me about five hours to wander aimlessly around Diagon Alley. I had finished my shopping and had nothing else to buy. As I paid for my book, I thought about how to entertain myself for that long. But my wallet was full and there were lots of shops, and even though I didn't necessarily _need_ anything, I decided I could shop around for a while.

"See you tonight," I called, waving as I stepped into the street.

In case you're wondering- your suspicions are correct. I like Hermione, a lot. We got pretty close during my fifth year, and friendship turned to… well, more. For me, that is. I don't think she returned the feeling. But she did notice that I was acting strange, and asked about it. I told her nothing was wrong, and she persisted, and finally she said, "You like someone, don't you?" I had to say something, so I told her I liked Harry. And Harry and I dated. Then a few weeks ago, we broke up. We were still friends; the split was mutual- it just wasn't the way it had once been. I knew why- my thoughts so often strayed to Hermione that I was spaced out half the time and moody for the rest of it.

And now I was meeting her for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron- and she had said it was a date. I could have sung. And that was why I was inventing things to do, so I had an excuse to stay in Diagon Alley for five hours, just to wait on a friend and have drinks with her. Because I was completely obsessed and head-over-heels in love.

Crap.


	2. Boyfriend? Yeah, Right

DISCLAIMER: Still don't own it.

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By a quarter 'til four I was too nervous to shop anymore. I went straight to the Leaky Cauldron and got a table by the window. When someone came to take my order (I paid no attention to who they were- it could have been a hippogriff and I wouldn't have noticed) I asked for a Firewhiskey. Normally I would get a Butterbeer, but my stomach was churning and I decided a bit of a drink couldn't hurt. Every time the bell on the door rang, my head snapped up involuntarily. I was a total mess.

Finally, at exactly four-fifteen, the bell tinkled and it really was Hermione. I had, by then, finished most of my Firewhiskey, and when I saw her coming I nervously downed the rest. Then I stood to greet her with a hug. She summoned the waitress and ordered a Butterbeer, noticing my empty glass with distaste.

"I'll have another Fire…" I trailed off at her disapproving glance. "I'll just have a Butterbeer, too," I continued with a sigh, rolling my eyes at Hermione. Then the waitress was gone, and I stuck my tongue out.

Hermione just smiled. "One is more than enough," she said with finality.

I replied with a quiet "Yes, mum."

She laughed. "So, how's life?"

"It's alright," I shrugged. "What about you?"

"Too quiet! It's strange not hunting after Horcruxes or studying for exams," she mused.

"I can't imagine you not keeping busy. You must be doing something."

"Well," she admitted, "I've brought my parents back from Australia. And I'm sort of in the process of moving."

"That's great!" I replied enthusiastically, barely noticing that the waitress had brought us our drinks until Hermione took a sip. I loved this. I loved, when we really got engaged in conversation, how I barely had to think what I was saying. It was only in awkward situations that I got uncomfortable, and once we got on a roll, Hermione always make me feel at ease. "Is it a nice place?"

She nodded. "Small, but decent. You should come see it sometime." Instantly the relaxed feeling was gone, and a blush was creeping into my cheeks. I knew what she meant, but my mind wished she meant something else, and I hated myself for it.

Hermione must have been used to me blushing at random times, though, for she just continued. "Have you got a place of your own yet?"

Shaking my head, I said, "Nope, and I haven't got an official job either, just working for Fred and George now and then. I've heard rumours about an opening on the Harpies soon; thought I might try for that." Hermione gave me a blank look. "The Holyhead Harpies, Hermione! The Quidditch team!"

"Oh! That's cool," she said, understanding a little.

I sighed in shame. "You know, I'm not sure we can hang out in public anymore. I'm a little uncomfortable being seen with someone who doesn't know who the Harpies are," I joked.

"You're so mean," she sniffed, pretending to cry. I rolled my eyes and she smiled. "So, how's Ron?" I asked, changing the subject. I meant, of course, how was Ron treating her. I knew he was fine, I saw him every day at the Burrow.

"I don't know," she said. "We haven't talked."

I frowned. "He seems fine at home, but now you mention it, he doesn't talk about you much. No offence," I added.

She shook her head. "It's okay; I think he would be a terrible boyfriend. Bad sex, too, I imagine."

"Ugh, Hermione, I'm scarred!"

"Sorry," she giggled. "So, what about you and Harry?"

I nearly choked. We hadn't been dating for over a month; I expected her to know. "You haven't spoken to him?" She shook her head. "'Mione, we broke up weeks ago," I said.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry," she replied. "I really didn't know."

I cocked an eyebrow. "It's okay," I assured her, slightly amused at how serious she seemed. "It was mutual. It just wasn't like it used to be."

"How so?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Well," I began, "it was me mostly. I suppose I've been acting a little weird, sort of spacey.

"Why?" she inquired.

_Because I'm madly in love with you. _"I dunno," I shrugged.

After a brief moment of silence, Hermione asked, "Ginny, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "It's getting late, I'd better go." I pulled some money out of my pocket, set it on the table, and walked out, close to tears.


	3. This is the Part Where I Cry Like a Baby

DISCLAIMER: Do I own it now? *checks* Nope.

* * *

Outside, where the gently falling snow had somehow turned into a near-blizzard, I heard the bell on the door tinkle behind me. A few steps later, an arm wrapped around my shoulders, but I didn't look at Hermione's face. One of her gloved hands wiped away a tear that threatened to freeze on my skin.

"Ginny, please, what's wrong?" her voice was worried. "Did I say something?"

I didn't reply.

"Do you want to talk?"

I sniffled.

"How about we go to my flat and you can tell me?"

This brought a fresh wave of tears (and strange looks from the few others braving the storm), but Hermione gave my shoulders a squeeze and gently turned me around, leading me back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Back in Muggle London, the storm was just as bad, and Hermione worriedly pulled my hood up to try and keep the snow out of my hair. Still holding me tight, she dragged me onto a bus and sat me down. I leaned against the freezing window dully, hating myself for being such a baby.

I didn't even know why I was crying! I had a general idea… hearing her talk about my brother as a boyfriend was part of it. I didn't _want_ Hermione to like guys. I wanted her to like _me_. I wanted her to tell me she had no idea how Ronald was doing and that he could go screw himself in a corner because she wanted me and no one else. Either that or go away and stop tormenting me. Sitting there on that bus, driving through the snow-covered streets of London, my heart was pounding at her touch even through my tears. It was maddening to know that I was upset with her for not loving me, and her arm was across my shoulders making me feel light-headed, yet it was all friendly to her. She didn't know how I felt and she definitely didn't return the feeling. She thought she was comforting a friend upset about a break-up. Her touch was wonderful, excruciatingly pleasant torture. I knew she was there and cared for me, but not in the way I wanted.

The way I saw it, I had a few options. I could do nothing- enjoy the sensation of her arm around me and be content with it. I could tell her and risk ruining our friendship forever. Or I could avoid her and stop putting myself through this. I wasn't sure which would be the most painful.

So I suppose I did know why I was crying.

A few stops later- I lost count- Hermione gave me a gentle tug and led me off the bus "It's not far now," she said lightly, trying to cheer me up, I suppose. We walked for a block and then around a corner, and there was her apartment building. Finally we reached it and entered into the warmth, going up an elevator to the fourth floor and down a hallway to the third door on the right. Pulling a key from her pocket, Hermione inserted it into the lock and opened the door. "Not much…" she murmured.

Boxes were everywhere. On the kitchen counter, on the table, on the floor. A bathroom door to the left revealed a sink and counter… covered with boxes. It didn't look like she'd done much moving in yet- the only touch was a knitted afghan draped over the sofa. Somehow I liked it- totally disorganized and definitely not a home yet, but with definite potential.

My inspection and approval of Hermione's new flat helped to distract me momentarily, and I was able to get my breath and stop sobbing for a few seconds. Then I turned to her and noted her expression. She seemed a little nervous, like she was waiting for exactly that- my approval. She looked so cute! And then… yeah, I started crying again.

By now utterly bewildered, Hermione dragged me over to the couch. "Ginny," she said, sounding firm and a bit exasperated, "what is it?"

If she was impatient with me, it was nothing compared to how I felt about myself. There I was on my best friend/crush's couch, sobbing and blubbering like a baby. I hated myself so much by then that I couldn't take it anymore. I was a fucking Gryffindor, and I was going to tell her.

I sort of threw myself at her then, hugging her tight and still crying on her shoulder. "Hermione… I have to tell you something."

"Okay," she soothed, still-gloved hand rubbing my back. "It's alright, Ginny, you can tell me."

"I"- I choked out- "I like you. A lot."

She gasped and pulled away.

(A/N: Sorry for the little cliffie. And yeah, I know… I'm a bit annoyed with Ginny in this chapter…)


	4. Unbelievable!

A/N: Sorry, I know this took forever. I had finals and dance and a load of other crap, but it's up. And no cliffies this time (unless you're George!).

Disclaimer: HP isn't mine, neither are Ginny, Hermione, Fred, George, or Molly.

* * *

"Ginny, you're being serious?" Hermione asked anxiously.

I nodded. "I'm sorry, and please don't want to stop being my friend, I just can't help it! I've tried so hard to make it go away, but it just _won't_, and I had to tell you, I just"-

Then I sort of couldn't talk anymore because her mouth was on mine.

Oh God, it was wonderful. I'd dreamed about her kissing me many times, but this was a thousand times better. This was real and she was here and tangible and I wasn't dreaming (or if I was, then it was the best dream I'd ever had).

After a few seconds of just sitting there with our lips pressing together (maybe waiting to make sure I wouldn't pull away?) she leaned in and slid her mouth down just the tiniest bit so she was sucking on my bottom lip. I made this weird little sound- not a moan or a whimper, sort of like a gasp only my mouth didn't open. Hermione laughed as she leaned back, pressing lightly on my shoulders to break the kiss.

"How long?" she asked, hands still on my shoulders, massaging gently.

"Fifth year," I whispered; my voice was hoarse now from all my idiotic crying.

Hermione smiled. "Me too," she replied. "Well, my sixth, but the same year."

It wasn't until then that I really let myself believe it. Hermione liked me. She felt the same way about me that I did about her. She _kissed me_ and she seemed to like it. I laughed out loud and lunged at her again, knocking her backwards and pinning her to the sofa. I pressed kisses to her face and neck until we were both giggling hysterically and out of breath.

"Gin," Hermione laughed softly. "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I," I shook my head. "I'm sorry I've been such an arse all day."

"I'm just glad I know why." She grinned. "I thought you were crazy."

I kissed her on the forehead. "I think I may be." She just closed her eyes and made a small humming sound.

"'Mione?" There came that sound again. "About Ron… is there really nothing? You don't like him at all anymore?"

Forehead wrinkling, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course not. And Harry?"

I shook my head again. "Nope. I've been wondering if I ought to tell him, though. I mean, we're still good friends."

"Have you never told anyone?"

"Fred knows I'm into girls, and I'd talked to him about you once or twice. But no one else."

"Hmmm," she sighed. "Was Harry upset when you broke up?"

"Not really. He seemed worried about me, but not mad."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, you should tell him. If you want to."

I waited a moment to see if she had anything else to say. Then I asked, "Have you ever told anyone?"

"No," she said. "Not a soul."

"How long have you known you liked girls?" I inquired.

"A long time. Since I was fourteen, maybe?" She said the last sentence as a question. Then she started to say something else, but the clock chimed five. I glared at it. "Do you have to go?"

I bit my lip. "I left the house at ten to get one book. I probably should."

She nodded. "All right, then. Let me up." Reluctantly, I climbed off the sofa to allow Hermione to stand. She ran and leapt over boxes back to the coat hooks by the door and came back with a Flourish and Blotts bag.

I frowned. "Wish you'd left it there so I could come see you tomorrow."

Laughing, she handed me the bag that held my new book. "I'll see you soon," she promised. "Maybe I can invite myself over to the Burrow."

"Sounds good," I replied. With a 'quick kiss' that turned into tongues, moans, and Hermione eventually pushing me away—damn self-control—I turned on the spot and the tiny flat disappeared.

I had gotten accustomed to Apparating enough that it wasn't too uncomfortable, but my mother seated at the kitchen table staring at me when I arrived made me feel a bit uneasy.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, do you have any idea what time it is?"

I just grinned. "'Round five?"

"You left this house at ten o'clock, young lady! Where have you been?"

"Ran into Hermione and we got some drinks, then we went so I could see her flat. I'm going upstairs_bye_!" Then, still clutching my bag, I skipped up to my room, Apparating out again as soon as I got there.

Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was nearly deserted thanks to the weather, but I found my older brother in the back adding ingredients to a lime-green, bubbling potion. "Fred!" I threw myself at him.

George cleared his throat. "Oh, hi, George. Sorry, this is a private matter." I giggled.

My poor, left-out brother shrugged. "I'm making a potion here."

So I just rolled my eyes and leaned in to whisper in Fred's ear: "I kissed 'Mione and she kissed me back and she likes me!"

"Nice!" he exclaimed, giving me a high five. "Knew it would work out."

I was absolutely giddy. "Well, I've got to go, mum's already mad at me because I was home late. Bye!" Then I Disapparated and, back in my room, collapsed on my bed. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so happy.

"_What was that about?" George asked his twin._

_Fred just laughed and shook his head. "I get the feeling she'll tell you soon enough."_


	5. Coming Out and Going Out

A/N: Finally an update! This chapter contains no sex, but there is some making out and mentions of sex.

DISCLAIMER: I am not JKR, I am making no money, and I do not own HP.

* * *

Two days later I left the house at noon to go see Harry. I had talked to him the day before and said I needed to tell him something, and he had invited me over to Grimmauld Place.

He answered the door and greeted me with a hug, which I took as a good sign. I was honestly a bit nervous about telling him—after all, the only person I'd ever told was Fred, my own brother, who I knew would love me no matter what. I didn't know about Harry… there was a good chance he'd be upset, especially considering that Hermione was part of the reason we broke up. I couldn't remember ever talking to him about gay rights, so I wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing. But he was one of my best friends, and I had to tell him.

Seated on his couch, each of us with a mug of hot cocoa, he started the conversation. "You said you wanted to tell me something?"

I took a deep breath. "Yeah, Harry… look. You and me are still friends?"

"Of course."

"But you don't like me anymore?" I continued.

"Not as anything more than a friend or a sister, no…" he seemed a bit confused now.

"Well, that's good, because I, erm… I think I'm gay."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly set down his cocoa. "Oh."

"I mean, don't feel bad, because I know people say you can be 'turned' gay, but you really can't, so it's not like you _made_ me gay or something. I just am."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence followed.

After about half a minute of my heart pounding and Harry not saying anything, I stood up. "Okay, well, I'm gonna go then."

"No, Ginny, wait. Sorry, I just… that wasn't what I was expecting. Erm… wow."

"Yeah. Wow."

"It's cool, though. I mean, I don't mind," he continued. "So—is there someone?"

I grinned, blushing just a little. "Yeah, its, er… it's Hermione."

Harry raised an eyebrow again. "Does she know?"

"Does sticking her tongue in my mouth qualify as 'knowing'?"

Snorting, he nodded. "Definitely." I beamed, unable to contain it. "Are you two going out then?"

I had to think about it. "Well, officially, no, I suppose. I ought to ask her, don't you think?"

The look on his face was priceless. _Ginny, how stupid are you? You've liked this girl for God knows how long, finally told her, and she kissed you, and you didn't even ask her out?_

He just said, "That might be a good idea."

So I set up a date with Hermione. Well, if you can call her coming over to my house a date. But she showed up at the Burrow at six o'clock, we had dinner, and then she came up to my room. As soon as the door shut she pinned me to it, kissing me for the first time that night.

"I could kill you," she muttered after finally pulling away. "That was torture!"

"What, you don't like my family?" I teased.

"Your family's fine," she said, tugging me to the bed to sit down, "but you were _right there_ and I couldn't kiss you!"

"Well now you can," I hinted, and she took the hint.

A few minutes later, after both of us were out of breath and flushed, I held up a hand to stop her when she leaned in again.

"'Mione," I began, "since we've been pining away or whatever for a good three years, I was wondering… would you be my girlfriend?"

She nodded. "Yes," she said very seriously, but with a small smile. _Then_ I let her kiss me again.

The kissing… well, let's just say it got pretty heated. I'm pretty sure I 'accidentally' gave her a hickey, and somehow my bra got unhooked. Again, 'accidentally', of course. Our tongues wrestled, our teeth clacked together, and our hands wandered everywhere. When we finally broke away, Hermione's eyes seemed a shade darker than normal.

"Ginny, I-I… oh, I don't know!" She seemed a bit distressed. I grinned.

"Aww, 'Mione, that's so sweet," I laughed. She raised one eyebrow. "You want me," I clarified in my 'sexy voice'.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she replied sweetly. "I _need_ you!" And then she tackled me, pinning me to the bed.

"No, stop!" I laughed. "Not here!"

"Why not?" she pouted. Wow. Talk about out of character. I'd always thought I would be the one begging _her_ for sex, but here she was, trying to do me with my parents in the house.

"Out of the two of us," I said firmly, "one has a twin-sized bed in her _parents'_ house, and the other has a place of her own where no one can bother us."

Hermione may have been extremely horny, but she was still the same logical Hermione, so she couldn't argue with that. We spent a few minutes trying to look like we hadn't just almost fucked each other, and I threw some clothes in a bag.

"Hey mum?" I called, running down the stairs with my new girlfriend right behind me. "Is it alright if I stay at 'Mione's place tonight?"

"I don't see anything wrong, dear," she shook her head. "That is, provided Hermione doesn't mind."

"Believe me, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione laughed, "I don't mind. At all."

And we stumbled into the Floo Network, laughing our heads off.


	6. The Love Bite and Everything Thereafter

A/N: How is it that I can write a sex scene at 1,500 words but have trouble getting up to 800 for a normal chapter? *headdesk* From here on out, I'm really going to shoot for longer chapters.

WARNING: Here be femmeslash lemons. You are forewarned.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own HP and I'm making no money here.

* * *

As soon as we arrived at Hermione's flat, the two of us were in each other's arms again. She slipped—no, she forced—her tongue in my mouth without warning this time. I could feel her sucking on my lower lip until she broke away and moved to my neck. Her mouth formed a vacuum, pulling so hard it almost hurt. She even bit me, and at one point her teeth went through my skin. "Ow," I gasped, hand flying to the spot.

"Sorry," Hermione laughed for a minute and then stopped to inspect the damage. "Oh, sorry," she added more seriously as her fingers traced the teeth marks. I didn't reply, only attacked her neck in the same way. I was nice enough not to make her bleed.

After a few more minutes, she stopped me from what I was doing and dragged me into the bedroom. As soon as the door shut behind us I grabbed her hips and grinded them against my own. I had never wanted anything so badly, I realized. Seizing the bottom of her sweater, I pulled it over her head, revealing a lacy cami underneath that showed a fair bit of skin on her stomach.

Her fingers fumbled for a minute before getting a solid hold on the zipper of my sweatshirt and yanking it down. She slid her hands inside it and ran them down my arms, pulling the fabric off my shoulders as she went. I shivered and found her lips again.

By that time we were moaning unashamedly, holding each other as close as possible. Hermione's hands went up my t-shirt and eventually slid it off; I did the same to her cami. The two of us stood there for a moment, breathing hard, in bras and jeans. Our eyes met, and very slowly Hermione's right hand trailed over my hip, up my side, and around behind me. With just the one hand she unhooked my bra, and I raised my arms slightly to allow her to slip it off. She stared at me for a moment, totally silent except for her breathing. Already my nipples were standing out, hard as stone. Too cautiously for my taste, she brought both hands up to cup my breasts, and in that instant time seemed to speed up again. I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her face to meet mine, and kissed her so hard I wondered if my lips would turn purple. Instead of unhooking her bra like she had done to me—I was too impatient—I just pulled it over her head. Jeans were shed, underwear was thrown into far corners of the room, and _finally_ we were naked and I could look at her.

Hermione's skin was pale, but not so pale as mine. She had beautiful shoulders, somehow soft and bony at the same time, showing dips in the skin where her elegant collarbones sat. Her breasts were perfect, larger than mine but neither too large nor too small. Her flat stomach was covered nervously by graceful hands that shook slightly. The curls over her private parts seemed to tease me, but I was determined to finish my examination before inspecting them further. Her legs were more slender than mine, her feet larger. Where mine were short and wide, hers were narrow and longish. Done with my looking-over, I glanced back up at her eyes, which were travelling over my own body. She looked back at me as she finished. There was laughter in her eyes.

"That's so sexy," she whispered, smiling.

"What?" I laughed, raising eyebrows.

"Fire crotch," she managed to murmur before I pounced on her, pinning her to the bed.

My family had always compared me to a cat. Well, cats are extremely territorial, and I guess my animal instinct kicked in, because suddenly I had this really possessive feeling. That was when it really sort of hit me—Hermione was _mine_, and I loved that so much. I straddled her, holding her wrists above her head. I could feel that my wetness was getting on her stomach, and strangely enough I wasn't uncomfortable about that. However, looking at her then, back arched, breasts pushing up into the air, I became a little uncomfortable about something else entirely.

I had no idea what I was doing.

"Have you ever done this before?" Hermione seemed to echo my thoughts.

I shook my head. "Never with a girl," I replied, freeing her hands. "Just Harry. You?"

"No," she whispered. "Well… only with myself." She turned bright red suddenly.

"Oh," I chuckled. "Well, me too. I suppose that ought to make it a bit easier."

We stared at each other for a minute. Her hand cupped my cheek. After looking at her for a moment, I smiled. "You ready?" Hermione nodded, and I leaned in for a kiss. My hands caressed her face, her neck, and slid down to her waist. Carefully I traced circles on the skin, travelling up again to skim my fingers over her breasts. The smallest of gasps escaped her lips before she reigned herself in, keeping her emotions in check.

"Don't hide it, silly," I whispered, tugging on one of her nipples to prove my point. She gasped again, this time louder, and her hands came up to my own breasts. She grabbed them a bit forcefully, actually. And I thought _I _was possessive.

After that, I stopped thinking, because her mouth was on my breast. Actually _on_ it, sucking and making me crazy. "'Mione," I moaned, and that was about the last rational thing that came out of my mouth for a while. She teased and teased, finally going to the other breast. By that point I was bracing myself with locked elbows and praying I didn't collapse. I didn't notice where her hand was going, so it was a shock when suddenly I felt it press between my legs. Stunned, I fell on top of her. Her hand pressed harder.

"Hermione," I whined. "Please…"

"I've got no idea what to do," she whispered.

"Anything," I moaned, desperate by now.

Shaking her head uncertainly, she shrugged and flipped me over. Quickly Hermione crawled on top of me and spread my legs apart. She stared directly into my eyes and slipped a finger inside of me.

I gasped immediately, and then again when she started to move her finger. When she added a second, coherent thought pretty much flew out the window, and, at the third, I screamed.

"I love you," I was dimly aware of her ragged panting in my ear. Again and again she said it, in time with the movements of her finger and my hips.

"I… love you," I moaned, finishing with a scream as my body began to shake. It was like nothing I had ever felt before; nothing like with Harry, nothing like by myself. I arched off the bed and felt Hermione's free arm encircle me, holding me tight, anchoring me to the world. When it was over, I fell back, unable to catch my breath or open my eyes.

Finally, I pried my eyelids open. Hermione was looking at me worriedly. "Are you alright?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. "That was… perfect. Really."

We cuddled for a while, and I wasn't sure what felt better—the amazing sex, or just the feeling of lying in her arms. Once I was recovered, I kissed her softly and then more roughly. Her lips were already swollen, and I wondered if I was hurting her. When I asked, she just laughed at me. All the same, I moved from her lips to her neck and then down to her chest.

Before long I had her begging for me to take her. Very slowly, I knelt between her legs and pushed them apart. I gently rubbed a finger from the tops of her pubic hairs down to where her body met the mattress, teasing and deliberately avoiding where I knew would make her really happy. Then I stroked the other way, more slowly and with just slightly more pressure.

"Ginny…." she moaned warningly. I stroked her one more time before plunging two fingers in roughly. I felt a bit bad for teasing her so much, so I moved as hard and fast as I could, breaking out in a sweat all over again.

Hermione was a bit more verbal than I would have expected. "Oh my God," she moaned. "Oh, Merlin—omigod, omigod, omigod…"

Within minutes she cried out, tensing around my fingers and convulsing several times. I held her tightly as she lay panting.

"Relax, 'Mione; it's okay," I murmured. "Shhh, relax." I couldn't help but laughing a little. When she finally got herself under control, she laughed too.

"I love you," she finally sighed, squirming a little until I loosened my hold. She rolled over and curled into me so her whole back side was pressed into my front, legs intertwined.

"I love you too," I whispered. Honestly, I couldn't believe it. She loved me… we had gone to her place and made love, and now she was falling asleep in my arms, and she would be there when I woke up in the morning… and on top of it all, she loved me. The other day, after kissing Hermione and telling Fred that everything had worked out, I had tried and failed to think of a time when I had been happier.

I could think of one now.


	7. How in the World?

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**A/N: I'm not dead yet!**

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, Hermione's eyes were staring into mine. I grinned sleepily, remembering the night before, and rolled over, stretching.

"Morning," I said hoarsely.

"Morning," she whispered.

I lasted exactly twelve seconds from the time my eyes opened until I couldn't stand it anymore, and just had to kiss her. So I did.

"What time is it?" I asked when we pulled back.

"Nine-ish," she sighed, snuggling into my arm. "I've got work at ten-thirty."

"Do you have to get up?"

"Not yet."

I smiled and kissed her again. She pulled away when my hands started to wander ("Not _now_, Gin! I don't have _that _much time!") and slid out of bed. I enjoyed the view as she turned her back to me and walked out of the room. Then, as the shower water began to run, I fell back asleep contentedly.

Clean clothes were thrown at me and I woke up again. Hermione smiled, dressed and with wet hair, and said with way too much energy for so early, "Good morning again!"

I frowned, but got up anyway.

After getting dressed, I made my way among the boxes to Hermione's messy kitchen, where she was standing at the counter eating a bowl of cereal. "Have what you want," she told me, "If you can find it." I opened a few cabinets before finding the cereal box and a few more in search of a bowl. Milk was easy enough to find, but I used the last of it, so I promised to bring more… trailing of with a question. "That is, I could bring more tonight if you want me back over…?"

Hermione just laughed and hugged me tightly before setting her empty bowl in the sink and walking into the living room, searching for where we had kicked off our shoes.

"'Mione?" I asked, following her.

"Hmm?" she replied, bent over and looking under the couch.

I handed her the shoes, which had been behind the chair across the room. "Do you mind if I tell people?"

Slipping into the shoes, she said, "Of course not! I'm proud of you if you want to tell. Who?"

"I was thinking of going into the joke shop today and working and then telling George later. And… I was hoping maybe you'd come over soon and tell my family with me? So we can do it together?"

She smiled. "Sounds great. I've got to go, though. Oh, shit!" she said suddenly, as if she was remembering something.

"What?" I groaned.

"It's the 23rd, Gin. My grandparents and the rest of my family have Christmas on the 23rd. I'll be there tonight; you can't come over."

Sighing, I ran a hand through my unbrushed hair. "Oh, right… You could come over tomorrow and we could tell my family then? You're always welcome for our Christmas Eve. Unless we shouldn't drop the bomb on them that close to Christmas…"

"I think they'll be fine with it," Hermione reassured me with a kiss. "Stay as long as you like, but I really need to leave. Sorry," she bit her lip apologetically. "Tomorrow night?"

I nodded. "Come anytime after five. Mum'll have a conniption if you get there before."

"Tomorrow after five," she whispered, pulling me close one last time. "It's a date." And with a kiss, she Disapparated.

I was left wondering how in the world anyone could be so sexy.

* * *

Late that afternoon, I had just stacked the last box of Canary Creams on the shelf, Fred had rung up the last customer, and George had locked the back room when I allowed myself to think of what I planned to do. Up until then, my palms had started to sweat every time I thought of it until I permanently forced the thought out of my mind and forbade myself to remember. Until then.

"George? Fred?" I asked nervously. They looked up from the account book they were going over. "Are you busy tonight?"

Fred knew what I planned to do immediately. "Not at all. You want to come up to our flat and talk?" George looked confused, but I was grateful that he didn't ask. I needed to do this at my own speed. And I wasn't ready quite yet.

I still wasn't quite ready after I was seated at my brothers' kitchen table with a bottle of Firewhiskey in my hand (because the twins didn't care if I drank), but I figured I had better do it.

"George, you know how I came in to talk to Fred the other day?" He nodded. "Well, see, Fred already knows this. But I want to tell you."

"Okay."

I took a deep breath and a sip of Firewhiskey. And then another breath.

"Come on, Ginny," Fred placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a slight shake. "He won't care." I looked up at him and nodded slowly.

_One more breath,_ I said to myself,_ and then you're gonna tell him_. One more breath, and then: "George, I'm gay."

"…And?"

"Well, tell me what you think before I say the rest!"

"There's more?" Fred jumped in excitedly. I looked at him pointedly and then back at George.

"Gin, I don't care. You're my baby sister. Who you want to sleep with is the least of my worries."

I smiled. "Oh, so if you don't care, I guess I won't tell you who I did sleep with." I stood up and made to leave.

"WHAT?" Fred asked. "You did??!"

"You don't need to know," I smiled again, backing towards the door.

"Ginny!" George yelled, laughing. "Tell me who!"

"Did you?" Fred asked again, throwing his hands out.

I bit my lip for a moment and then nodded, laughing and jumping up and down.

"Told you she liked you! I _told_ you it'd work out!" He picked me up and swung me around like he used to when I was little.

"WHO?" George bellowed.

"Hermione," I sighed, pretending to be exasperated. The room was quiet for a second before he nodded and stuck his hand out for a high-five.

"Very nice," he laughed.

Fred grinned and nodded his approval. "She turned out decent-looking," he agreed. I smiled and nodded, knowing I looked all dreamy-eyed. My brothers laughed.

"Are you gonna tell Mum and Dad?" George asked.

I nodded. "Tomorrow. I've invited 'Mione over for Christmas Eve and we're going to tell them together. And the rest of the family."

"Cool," the twins chorused.

A few minutes later, I stood at the front door with Fred, who had walked me out. "I'm proud of you, kid," he said before hugging me and waving goodbye.

* * *


	8. On Charlie's Very Observant LadyFriend

**A/N: You have no idea how desperate I was to get this chapter written. I actually had to get out a notebook and write this down by hand, which I NEVER do. Then I had to type it on my mom's computer, save it on a flashdrive, and upload it on my sister's because I don't know how to clear the history on one and the other doesn't have Word. I wrote this and the next bit as one chapter which then turned into The Gigantic Chapter that Ate the World so I separated it into two. That also is uploaded and ready to go, and who knows? Maybe some reviews would persuade me to post it! ;)**

It was Christmas Eve at the Burrow. That, of course, meant that all of my siblings were either home or coming later (plus several non-family additions), the house (or at least the downstairs area) was clean for once, and Mum was about to blow a circuit.

And I was about to come out to my entire family.

Fred and George would be there to support Hermione and me, which would help, and of course Harry was coming too. Bill I knew, wouldn't care, and neither would Charlie, but I had no idea how my parents and Ron would react, especially considering how the youngest of my brothers had been infatuated with Hermione for years. As for Percy and Fleur, I could pretty much guess their reactions. And I certainly wasn't looking forward to them.

By half past four, mum had banned me from the kitchen as my hands were shaking so badly I kept dropping things. I made my way up to the twins' room, feeling slightly sick from nervousness.

"Come on, Gin," George sighed after I flopped on the floor dramatically. "No one will care; look how I took it."

"No one will care? What about Percy? He's always hated gays. And you know Fleur, she's so narcissistic she'll think I'm madly in love with her and freak out. And Ron's liked Hermione since he was, like, twelve! Plus, I'm the only girl Dad would ever get to give away and now I've gone and screwed everything up and Mum won't ever get to plan her daughter's wedding and—"

"Gin!" Fred interrupted. I turned my head to look at him. "Are you happy?"

"Not right now; do I look happy?"

"In _general_, are you happy with Hermione?"

"Of course."

"That's all Mum and Dad want. They don't care about planning your wedding! And Fleur's a bitch, so she doesn't count. If Ron and Percy have a problem with it, they can come and talk to me."

I grinned nervously, not convinced, and Fred sighed. "Aren't you supposed to be tough now that you're a lesbian? Honestly…"

I stuck my tongue out at him just as I heard the distant crack of someone Apparating and happy noises of welcome from downstairs.

"Fred! George! Ron! Ginny!" Mum's voice called, and the three of us heaved ourselves up with sighs of effort, meeting Ron on the stairs. We'd been pushed like workhorses getting the house clean all day, and by now we were exhausted.

My mood brightened considerably when I saw Bill downstairs, though. While Fred was my favourite brother, I'd always been pretty close with Bill too. Not even Fleur, standing right beside him, could dampen my excitement at seeing him again.

The tone in the room quickly went from happy, bubbly warmth to frigid awkward silence when Percy showed up. We were all on speaking terms with him again, but he was still a bit of a sore spot with Mum and Dad. Seeing that they weren't exactly jumping up to greet him; I was standing indifferently; and Fred, George, and Ron were glaring at Percy almost murderously, it was Bill who hugged him first and re-introduced him to Fleur.

I decided to be the bigger person here and say hi next. "Hey, Perce," I said, giving him a somewhat halfhearted hug. After that Mum and Dad greeted him happily and the awkward feeling disappeared from the room. Bill winked at me and mouthed 'thanks.' I grinned back, still nervous about coming out, and jumped as another crack sounded.

"Charlie!" I yelled, running to greet my second-oldest brother. He barely had time to set down the huge sack he had been carrying before I jumped into his arms. Only after he set me down did I notice the girl behind him. She was tall—a head taller than Charlie, actually, with long, straight brown hair, nearly-black sparkling eyes, and high cheekbones. Not only was she tall, but she was practically all legs—and very, very skinny legs in a _miniskirt_. In _December_. I didn't know Charlie had planned on bringing a friend, and I glanced around at my family to see if anyone else had heard about it. Apparently they hadn't—everyone except Ron looked mildly surprised. Ron looked a fish as he stared, open-mouthed, at the girl.

"Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Roxana. She works with me in Romania," Charlie announced. I found it hard to believe that. She looked like she could fall over if the wind blew too hard—not exactly the sort of girl you'd expect to tame dragons. "Hope it's okay I brought her, Mum," Charlie added, giving Mum a hug. "I know you always cook too much." Mum pretended to be annoyed, but it was easy to tell that she approved of the softspoken Roxana, even though we hadn't gotten much past the introductions.

Shortly after, Harry arrived and was immediately squished into a tight hug by my mother. Dad clapped him on the back, and Ron gave him a 'man-hug,' looking embarrassed at the overenthusiastic way Harry had been greeted by my parents.

"Happy Christmas, Gin," Harry said, pulling m into a hug and grinning cheekily. I grinned back and returned the sentiment, winking at him.

'He knows,' I mouthed to Fred and George a moment later.

By then it was a quarter after five and I was wondering where Hermione was. Was she not as excited to see me as I was to see her? Had she changed her mind and decided not to come out to my family? Ten minutes later we were still sitting by the fire chatting and I was so jumpy in anticipation that I started when I heard the sound of her Apparating.

She looked absolutely gorgeous. My entire body warmed with need just seeing her. She wore the same red sweater she had had on the other day at Flourish and Blott's, with dark blue skinny jeans and flats the exact colour of the sweater. Her hair was down and wildly curly as usual. I couldn't think of a time when she'd looked more beautiful (that is, with clothes on, at least…).

"Hermione!" I practically yelled, jumping up and hugging her so tightly it was a wonder she didn't faint from air loss. Her arms held me just a moment longer than a 'friendly' hug, ad one grazed my butt purposely as she pulled back. While she turned to hug someone else, I whipped around to see who had noticed.

Fred smirked, which didn't surprise me—I should have known he would have seen. I was surprised, though, to see Roxana very deliberately move her hand lower on Charlie's back and wink at me.

Bloody hell.

How was she that observant?

* * *

Later, after everyone was seated (in at least some sense of the word—meaning that I was hogging the fire with Hermione close by, Fleur was in Bill's lap, and everyone else was either in chairs, on the sofa, or on the floor) and the wireless was on, I finally got a chance to speak with Hermione.

"What took you so long? I was dying!" I whispered.

"I was… figuring out what to wear." Her cheeks turned a little pink.

I blinked. "That's… uncharacteristic."

"I was nervous," she said, shrugging.

Hugging her briefly, I replied, "I still am."

Roxana smiled knowingly at me.

"She knows," I whispered. "Charlie's girlfriend."

"How?"

"She saw you touching my arse!"

"How do you know that? You're probably just imagining it."

"'Mione, she most definitely looked straight at me, moved her hand down Charlie's back, and winked," I told her.

"Ah. So she might know."

"Yeah, maybe," I replied sarcastically. Hermione playfully swatted at me.

At dinner, I found myself between Harry and Roxana. Right as I had taken a big bite of mashed potatoes, Charlie's girlfriend whispered in my ear with a slight accent, "So how long have you and your friend been dating?"

After choking for just a moment, I coolly replied, "What do you mean?"

She raised her thin, archy eyebrows at me. "How long have you been dating Hermione?"

I glanced around quickly before sighing and admitting, "About a week and a half."

Roxana smiled that knowing smile again. "So I was right," she said not quite to the extent of snooty, but still slightly self-importantly. "I could tell you loved each other very much."

"How?" I asked worriedly. "Did we show it?"

"Not at all," the older girl assured. "I just… have a talent for reading people."

I didn't say anything.

"You two are very good for each other."

This time I smiled. "I think so too."

"Do any of your family know?"

"The twins…" I murmured. "Harry knows too. I'm telling the rest tonight."

Roxana just smiled and turned back to talk to Charlie. I decided Loony Lovegood had some competition.

**PS: A note on the OC. I dunno, I planned for her to be a sort of filler character, just there with nothing really to do, but she turned out more than I planned and I kinda like it.**


	9. No Squabbling So Violent

**A/N: I absolutely _had_ to use the word "wanker" in this chapter because we've got a World Cultures teacher from Scotland, and somebody asked her what it meant in class and she explained the literal meaning... it was funny. Then I noticed it in the movie _Bend it Like Beckham_ last night for the first time (though I've seen it at least twenty) and I was like okay, I've gotta use it.**

**So, after that ridiculously long and pointless author's note, you can come to the conclusion that I will indeed use the word "wanker" in this chapter.**

**Also, chapter title comes from the quote: "There is no squabbling so violent as that between people who accepted an idea yesterday and those who will accept the same idea tomorrow" by Christopher Morley.  
**

Finally everyone was through eating and had returned to the living room, groaning and clutching stuffed bellies. Dad turned the wireless back on, but lower, and him and mum handed out their presents. Ron got a gift certificate to Quality Quidditch Supplies; Fred and George got large packages of Honeydukes' chocolates; Bill and Fleur got a quilt Mum made for them and some candles for the house; Charlie got some strange special gloves that Dad had fiddled with until they protected from burns (which I'm sure he already had some professionally made, but it's the thought that counts!); Harry, who had recently decided to be an auror, received several books on the Dark Arts; and Hermione got a thick stack of books with names so long and complicated I didn't even try to read them (of course, we each got a customary Weasley sweater as well).

My package was long and thin, and I tried to squash my hopes of what it was in case I was disappointed. As I unwrapped the first layer of paper I saw a flyer inside announcing tryouts for the open position on the Harpies. My heartbeat quickened. I tore off the remaining wrapping and, sure enough, it was a broom—and a Firebolt at that! Nicer brooms had come out since, of course, but I'd never dreamed I'd have anything this wonderful. I hugged my Mum and Dad each tightly, thanking them each several times.

Fred and George handed out joke shop products to everyone except Mum, who got some new knitting needles and fancy yarn. Bill and Fleur gave all of the women thin, intricately woven silvery bracelets, and all of the men thick bands of the same material. Harry had, as a joke, bought enough copies of his unauthorized biography to give everyone one, and then had produced his real presents—more chocolates. Charlie's gifts were all paintings—each of a different dragon with a different setting. Hermione, of course, gave everyone books, and whispered to me that my real present was in her bed and I could have it later that night. I blushed before handing out my gifts—nothing expensive, as I was planning on moving out soon. I had used the charm Hermione had used in first year to make containable fire, putting some into jars I had decorated myself, one for everybody.

After all the gifts had been handed out, Hermione and I returned to the fire, me clutching my new Firebolt. During a lull in the conversation, Hermione nodded at me, and I started to stand up. I stopped when I saw Bill rising from his chair, holding Fleur's hand and clearing his throat.

"All right… well… Fleur and I have a bit of an announcement." The little talk that had still been going on in the background stopped. "So I know we've been married for a year and a half now… and some people are asking us what's taking so long… well… Fleur and I are going to have a baby."

Mum gave a sound that was very nearly a shriek, and everyone else clapped, the twins adding obnoxious noises to the din. Fleur beamed just before Bill kissed her on the mouth.

"When are you due?" my dad asked after they broke apart, looking a little disoriented. I knew why—he was going to be a grandfather!

Fleur laughed delightedly. "July," she told my father with pride.

After a few more comments (including a rather dirty one from Fred) the room was comparatively quiet again. The twins must have told Harry my plan, because he mouthed 'now' to me. My eyes widened. Hermione saw too, and nudged me.

"'Mione, I can't. They're my family…"

"And they'll love you no matter what," she said firmly, dragging me up into a standing position. "Everyone… we've got an announcement too." Everyone looked at us expectantly.

Hermione looked at _me_ expectantly. Shit.

I took a deep breath and searched for my inner lion. "Me and Hermione wanna say that… well, it's Christmas and we love you all so much and we think it's important that you know this so… we're dating."

Silence.

Fred and George were the first ones to move. They burst into loud cheers simultaneously, and Harry joined them a few seconds later. Everyone else stared at them.

Mum and Dad looked at each other for a few seconds, and then Dad stood up and waited for the yelling to stop. He glanced around the room, and I did too. Harry, Fred, and George were still grinning, Charlie looked thoughtful, Roxana smiled, Bill was giving the frowning Fleur a stern look, Percy's nose was wrinkled in distaste. Ron was glaring at us murderously.

"I'm not sure what _that_ was all about," Dad began, gesturing towards the twins and Harry, "But your mum and I are proud of you for telling us, Ginny, and we're glad that you two are happy." I squeezed Hermione's hand.

"Fleur and I are proud of you too, Gin." I turned to see Bill with an arm around Fleur's shoulders. "And Hermione," he added. He nodded at Fleur with a somewhat forceful look in his eyes. She barely managed a nod.

Then he and Fleur went back to talking and Mum and Dad started talking too and Ron moved to sit by Percy, and the worst was over. I dropped into a sitting position, dragging Hermione with me, and rested my head on her shoulder. Before too long, Charlie came over; I was pleased to note that for the moment he was Roxana-free. This was one conversation I'd prefer to have without her.

Charlie plopped down next to me and gave me a one-armed hug. "Congrats, girls," he said to both me and Hermione. "If you're happy, I'm happy, Gin."

I smiled slightly, still unable to believe I had done it.

"That wasn't _that_ bad, was it?"

I stared at him. "It was terrifying!"

"You feel better now?" he asked.

Leaning into my brother, I sighed. "Mmmhmm." He just laughed.

Later that night, after most people had gone to bed, Hermione, Mum, Dad, and I remained in the living room. After a few moments of silence, I blurted out, "Mum, Dad, I'm so sorry I had to break the news on Christmas, I just… I've known I was gay for _years_ now and I just had to tell you, and me and Hermione—"

My mother cut me off. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, relax. Come here." She opened her arms and I sat on her left side and she held me like when I was a little girl. "Whoever you love is good enough for your father and me. We're happy for you two, that you've found someone you love this much." She lifted her right arm and Hermione came to sit next to her as well. "And we want you to know that we love you two very much." She kissed us each on the forehead, and my father hugged us goodnight, and I headed up to grab some clothes for the next day to take to Hermione's.

"You just had to bloody ruin Christmas, didn't you?" I started, not having seen Ron in his doorway.

"What?"

"Ruining everyone's Christmas with your fucking news," he spat. "Nobody's ever happy at news like that."

My heart was pounding with fury, but I replied calmly. "Everyone who cares about me is happy that I'm happy, just like they will be when you find someone."

It was dark, but he was so mad that I could see his angry expression. "Piss off," he said, too loudly. "Go shag your little lesbian fuck buddy."

Fred and George stepped out of their room, wands raised. "Shut up, you little wanker," Fred said menacingly. "Don't you ever talk to her like that. She's gone through more shit with this already than you'll ever have to deal with."

"Shut up? You want me to? You gonna make me?" Ron taunted.

George stepped closer, putting his wand to Ron's temple. "Don't ask for it, pea-brain. We will."

My youngest brother's eyes narrowed a little before he stepped back. Staring at us for just a moment longer, he slipped into his room and slammed the door.

"You alright?" one of the twins asked. I was still staring at Ron's doorway.

Slowly I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks." I went to pack my stuff.

Later, as Hermione and I lay exhausted, panting, and sweaty, she said, "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, staring at the ceiling. I had only smoked a few times, and by no means did I consider myself an addict, but suddenly I found myself desperately wanting a cigarette.

"Come on, Ginny," she sighed. "It's Christmas and we just _did it_, you can't be sad!"

I grinned slightly. "Ron's upset about us. It's nothing; he'll get over it."

Hermione kissed me hard. "Don't worry. You're right, he will." She pulled me close and I relaxed, falling asleep almost instantly.

**PS: Reviews always inspire me to write more quickly!**


	10. Quite a Successful Night

**A/N: Yes, finally! This is hot-off-the-press and written at 11pm, so sorry for mistakes. It's a bit slutty as well, I suppose, but ah well. It's an update. I actually had no plans for this scene before I sat down to write; I had no idea where it was going. It turned into this!**

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"'Mione," I moaned, rolling over in bed and poking a finger in my lover's general direction, accidentally hitting her in the face.

More urgently now—_Tap. Tap. Tap._

"Hermione, owl!" I tried again. Hermione shifted a little so that she was facing away from me.

_Taptaptap!_

"Are you gonna get it?" I sighed. Hermione didn't move, and I could tell she was smirking as the springs on the bed creaked, signifying that I was getting up. Unfortunately for her, it was the end of December, it was freezing, and I, naked of course, had taken the blankets with me.

"Shit!" Hermione swore, sitting up for the first time that morning, drawing her legs into her chest and shivering. "Gin, get back here!"

After quickly opening the window (from which a fair amount of snow blew inside), I hopped across the cold floor and leaped onto the bed, throwing the blanket over Hermione and myself and huddling us together. Then I opened the letter. The main part of it was printed neatly and fancily, in curling script. The last bit had been scrawled by hand.

_To Miss Hermione Granger and Miss Ginny Weasley:_

_We are pleased to invite you to the first annual Weasley & Weasley New Year's Eve Party, hosted at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes at eight o'clock PM on the 31__st__ of December. RSVP by owl._

_Sincerely,_

_Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. George Weasley_

_PS: The Firewhiskey will be flowing freely—we trust you girls to keep it clean!_

"How many times can you say 'Weasley' in one letter?"

I chuckled. "Doesn't sound much like Fred and George's sort of thing."

"Except for that last part," Hermione added, kissing me on the cheek.

"Well," I giggled, "they're wrong about that, aren't they?" To Hermione's quizzical look, I replied, "I don't plan on keeping it clean at all!"

* * *

On the 31st of December we left Hermione's flat just before seven-thirty. We caught a few eyes on the bus—I wasn't sure if it was because we were holding hands or because of my very, very high heels. Under my winter coat I wore a black miniskirt and a gold top with a daringly low neckline and barely more than spaghetti straps. Hermione was dressed a bit more conservatively but still, I thought, stunning, in a dark purple dress that reached almost to her knees, empire-waisted with cap sleeves, and flats that left her now shorter than me. Neither of us could keep their eyes off the other… I was admittedly having the same problem with my hands…

Muggle London was bustling, with people spilling out or rushing in to nearly every doorway. The atmosphere was happy and contagious and a little bit drunken, and before we reached the Leaky Cauldron, both of us were giggling.

The bar was packed, but we pushed their way through and entered Diagon Alley, which was just as busy as the rest of the streets in London. Spells—fireworks, weather tricks, flashy bits of magic—were being shot off everywhere they turned, and owls soared around free, hooting and calling to one another. By far the most hectic and luminous building was Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

There was a bouncer—an actual bouncer!—at the door, who let the two of us in without a word but held up a hand to stop the thin wizard behind us. With excited grins, we pushed open the doors and saw that the shop had been turned into—we weren't sure exactly what.

In the middle was a giant dance floor, dark with pulsing lights everywhere, like a nightclub. Off to one side, in a separate room, they could see a bar, and on the other (complete with a magical barrier to lessen the noise from the dance floor) was a nice, well-lit sort of sitting room filled with people.

"Hello, girls," chorused the twins. "Like the rearrangements?" George added.

"It's bloody brilliant!" I exclaimed, taking a step forward to look around a bit.

Hermione nodded her agreement before asking, "Who all's here that we know?"

The twins began naming off a list of people, including Lee Jordan, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Harry, some former Hogwarts students of Fred and George's year, and some friends they'd made through business.

"Then your oldest brother Bill would be back in there," George gestured to the sitting room, "perhaps a bit tipsy—"

"—His lovely wife, on the other hand, is complaining about her pregnancy—" Fred cut in.

"—While Charlie and his Romanian gem of a woman can be found snogging on a couch somewhere over there."

"Percy wouldn't come, and Ron… well, we invited him even though he's a git, cause we couldn't ask Perce and not him. He didn't reply to the owl and he hasn't showed up yet."

We both just nodded mutely, distracted by where exactly on Hermione's body I was presently putting my hand…

"Oi! Cut it out!" exclaimed Fred. "Or at least go do it on the dance floor… wait, not _it!_" He yelled, but we were already gone, laughing, out of our coats and plunging into the crowd.

Hermione seemed a bit unsure at first, but I took her hands and moved with her, guiding her until she felt more comfortable dancing. She had never really liked it, I knew; but she seemed to be really into it. Her eyes never left mine the whole time, and I kept her gaze as we moved our bodies in time with the music.

As song after song passed, we got closer and closer without noticing, until our bodies were touching and I couldn't stop myself from grinding up against Hermione. The older girl drew back at first, but as I gave her a reassuring look, she moved her hips in the same circular motion. Her hands caressed my sides and we grinned breathlessly at each other, unable to speak, as I grew hopelessly turned on and tried to hide it.

Finally, when another song was ending, Hermione dragged me off of the floor towards the bar, and despite her dislike for the effects of the liquor, she ordered us each a Firewhiskey, replying, "Why the hell not?" to my amused expression.

We found a table with Harry. He was just being deserted by Neville and Luna, who, apparently dating now, were headed off towards the dance floor. Hermione and I grinned at them as they passed us, and then sat down, giggling in an 'I'm happy and slightly frisky' sort of way. We chatted about Harry's job as an auror and Hermione's continuous applications to the Ministry (which looked more promising now), and then, interrupting this discussion of jobs, the twins arrived, bearing with them a woman whose face had been stuck up on my bedroom wall for years.

"Gwenog Jones?" I exclaimed. She grinned and shook both mine and Hermione's hands before the twins explained, "Heard you talking about jobs and thought we'd introduce you."

"Are you coming to the tryouts next month?" the Quidditch captain asked. "I've heard good things about you."

"Yeah, definitely!" I told her enthusiastically.

"Ginny!" a man's voice called from the back.

"Shit, that's my brother Bill. I'd better go; it was nice to meet you!"

"See you at the tryouts then!" she said, waving. I gave Hermione's hand a squeeze as I pulled her over to Bill and Fleur's table.

"This gives you an advantage, you know," she said in my ear on the way over. "Knowing her personally."

"I hope so, that would be such a cool job! You'd come to every single game, wouldn't you?'

"I'd even paint my face your colours," she replied with a grin.

"Happy New Year!" Bill exclaimed loudly when we reached him. "Have you heard people are taking bets on whether you two are dating or just horny dancers?"

We all laughed at that except Fleur, who sipped her Butterbeer quietly. As Bill raised his glass to his mouth only to discover that it was empty, she rolled her eyes.

"Right, well, I'll get more drinks then. Three Firewhiskeys and a Butterbeer?" We all nodded our assent.

"Are you alright, Fleur?" Hermione asked.

"Eet eez terrible, this pregnancy," she sighed. "I cannot drink! Eet eez New Year's Eve, and I cannot drink!" Hiding smirks, Hermione and I consoled her until Bill returned before heading off to the dance floor once again.

We spent the evening like this, alternately dancing our arses off and chatting with old friends. The few people we didn't speak to included Dean, who looked positively horrified when he bumped into us dancing (ahem, grinding!).

By the time people started counting down, Hermione and I were both a little buzzed. We had been responsible enough not to get completely wasted, which was more than some people could say, but we were pleasantly tipsy. Joining in the countdown happily, we watched the other couples rushing to find each other to share a kiss. Carefully I judged her expression—her eyes were wide and open. She looked happy. 'Yes' seemed to be written on her face. So when '3-2-1!' was screamed, and the shop erupted into an explosion of noise, I grabbed her hips, pulled her close, and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Our kiss must have lasted longer than everyone else's or something, because after a little while it went quiet for a moment before whistles and catcalls filled the room. Hermione pulled back and we looked around briefly before turning to face each other, shrugging, and kissing again. Before long the music started up again and we were no longer the center of attention. I dragged her off of the dance floor and over by the wall where we could have a bit more privacy.

"I love you," I whispered, holding her hips and swaying slightly to the slow song that was now playing.

"I love you too," she sighed, coming back for one more short kiss.

The sound of a throat clearing caused us both to jump, and I was even more shocked when I saw Ron standing there.

"Hi," he said awkwardly. When we didn't reply, he continued: "Um… Happy New Year's. And… congrats."

While his tone wasn't the most enthusiastic, he did sound as if he were trying to be sincere, so I gave him a hug and Hermione followed suit. "Thanks, Ron," I added as he walked away, and he nodded.

Instead of taking the bus, we Flooed home at some obscene hour of the morning, stripped naked and fell into bed without bothering with pajamas. Hermione was asleep almost instantly, and I only had time for a short thought before I joined her.

_It's been quite a successful night._


	11. We're Everywhere!

**A/N: Finally. Here it is! Hope you guys enjoy the update. Points to anyone who knows what movie the quote is from. **

"Hermione!" I yelled as soon as I burst through the door of her flat. I set my broomstick, enchanted to fit in my pocket, on the floor, making a sweep of the few rooms before finding her in the bedroom, asleep. Shit.

"Hermione," I whispered, laying down beside her after kicking off my shoes. I kissed her forehead gently before an idea struck me. I spoke softly, "'Mione." Pressing a kiss to her lips and then moving to her neck, I climbed on top of her.

A frown crossed her face, her brow wrinkled, a tiny moan escaped her throat. I wanted to hear it again, louder, so I entered her mouth with my tongue. She was kissing me back, but I knew she wasn't awake yet. It was about the hottest thing I'd ever experienced—I couldn't help wondering what she was dreaming about.

"Hermione," I whispered, pulling back before snaking my arms around her and kissing her neck once more. Finally, with a gasp, her eyes flew open.

"Ginny! What are you—"

"Kissing you," I mumbled into her neck.

"I know, but—ah—why?" Her sentence was interrupted with a moan.

"Because I love you and I made the Harpies!" I exclaimed, pulling back to look into her eyes for the first time. They were sleepy, confused, happy, shining. I could glimpse them for just a moment before she hugged me enthusiastically.

"Gin, that's so great! Congratulations!" I was rewarded with a very congratulatory kiss.

After we separated for air, I stared into her eyes again. "I love you," I whispered. My intentions were clear, and I knew that Hermione could tell what I wanted.

She smiled. "I love you, too."

Slowly I pushed a few wayward hairs off of her face, patting them into place.

I kissed her then, very, very softly, and let a little more of my body weight fall on her. We both groaned at the contact. Hermione's hands, cool and slightly shaking, slid to my hips and under my shirt.

"Mione..." I breathed; my heart was speeding up to an almost unbearable pace.

"Kiss me," she ordered, rolling us so she was on top, and I obeyed.

* * *

Unfortunately, our sex lives sort of went down the drain after that. With success comes exhaustion, and now that we were both successful (at least for the time being) in our careers, it was difficult to find a night when we were awake enough to do anything. Oh, I don't think I mentioned, Hermione finally got her job at the ministry. Since she was new, there was a fair amount of almost what I would call hazing going on; she insisted it was necessary for her to prove herself. She was given massive amounts of extra work to do, a lot of which included personal favours for her boss. On the other hand, I immediately fit into the Quidditch team, and every long, tiring, and occasionally bloody practice somehow felt like a party. Daily, very time-consuming parties. Between both of our jobs, we only saw each other at night and on weekends, when she brought work home and I nursed sore spots from practice and sex barely crossed our minds except to nostalgically think back to a time when it was a possibility, a time that seemed like another world.

This went on for a month.

I got so horny every day, sitting on that goddamned broomstick, Hermione plaguing my every thought. I swear to Merlin I got myself off on it once, in the middle of practice. During the day, my mind reflected a teenage boy's: Sex. I'm hungry. I want sex. Mmm, Hermione. Etcetera. But as soon as I would get home, I was so tired I had to collapse into bed every night and never moved until morning.

On February 12th, I got up at six when the first alarm went off. Hermione always slept half an hour longer than me because I tended to be slower in the mornings. I showered and dressed in sweats, sheepskin boots, and a long-sleeved shirt. Breakfast was hot cocoa and toast; I burned my tongue just like I did every other day. Around seven-fifteen, we both left—Hermione with her briefcase, me with my duffel bag full of Quidditch clothes.

While Hermione headed off to catch a Muggle bus that would take her in the general direction of the Ministry, I walked in the opposite direction, towards a different bus stop—this one much more hidden.

Similar to the Knight Bus, the vehicle that came to pick up members of the Holyhead Harpies at several different stops every morning, couldn't be seen by Muggles. It was dark green with our logo, a golden talon, on the side next to our team name.

Kristin Sanstone, our seeker, was already waiting for the bus when I arrived. She had to be about the shortest grown woman I'd ever seen. I wasn't even sure if she cleared five feet. Her hair was blonde and curly and her eyes were wide. She could easily have been a child. Greeting me with a wave, she grinned and announced, "I hear it's going to be murder today."

I grimaced. "Ugh. I would give anything for just one easy day."

"Why?" she laughed. "You always look like you're enjoying yourself."

"I like practice just fine. I don't like the fact that I'm always too tired to have any fun at night," I winked suggestively. We both laughed as the bus pulled up.

Since we were the second-to-last stop, everyone except our keeper, Rachel Pearson, was on the bus. We greeted our tall, thin, black-haired captain and beater Gwenog; the other chasers, Abby with the blond pixie cut and Bailey, short and strong with light brown hair; and the other beater, tan, blonde Diandra. I seated myself next to Abby, the youngest and newest member of the team besides me.

"How are you?" I asked after dumping my bag on the seat behind me.

"Peachy keen, jellybean," she answered. Being Muggleborn, she knew loads of quotes from their films. I figured this was one of them; I would have to ask Hermione. "And you?"

"Way too fucking sore," I complained, twisting in my seat and releasing a chain of crackles from my back.

"Ouch," she winced. "That's actually really disgusting. How can you even sleep?"

"Are you kidding? After these practices? How can I not?"

The rest of the ride passed uneventfully. After picking up Rachel, we continued on our way to the practice field—magically hidden, of course.

Once there, we all unloaded the bus and headed for the changing rooms. The room was filled with chatter as we changed, into workout clothes rather than our robes. Then, as a team, we went into the exercise room. Every morning we worked out for a few hours. Most days we didn't make it onto our brooms until after lunch.

At noon, sweaty, smelly, and disgusting, we stopped for lunch. Then, finally, we put on warm clothes and practice robes and grabbed our broomsticks.

This part of the practice was just as brutal, even more so because of the cold. Poor Abby, who barely had an ounce of fat on her body, shivered the entire time. I could barely see the Quaffle; in fact, I was afraid my eyeballs would freeze. The whole time Gwen was shouting directions and corrections and rarely ever praise, leaving Diandra to do most of the beating. One player and two Bludgers doesn't work so well, and most of us were bruised at some point.

I loved every second.

We finished at four and hurried inside to the warmth, pulling layers off of our sweating bodies as we went. Even as tired as we were, nobody stopped talking. The whole atmosphere was fun and accepting, and I had to thank the gods again for giving me such a cool job.

Back on the bus, Abby turned to me. "Hey, Gin, do you want to go out on Friday night? Like a double date?"

I cringed. I liked Abby, I really did, but as a good friend. I was a little shocked that she would ask me that without any sort of discussion beforehand. I hadn't even known she liked girls. "Um... what?"

"Would you double date with me on Friday night?"

"As in Valentine's Day?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded enthusiastically.

"Uh, Abby, that's really nice, but I've got a... significant other."

"What? Oh! Duh! Gin, I've got one too. Will you_ bring_ your 'significant other' and I'll bring mine and we can double date?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed, blushing a little at my stupidity. She wasn't asking me, she wanted to bring her boyfriend. "Thank god. I love you, Abby, but not in that way. Um... I'll have to ask her, but I don't think she'd mind.'

"She!" Abby exclaimed. "I knew it!"

"Yeah, I'm gay," I laughed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only 'cause I am too," she said, winking.

"What do you know," I giggled. "We're everywhere!"


	12. Mmm Yummy Lesbian Breakfast Goodness

**A/N: Yay! Update! Okay, here's the deal, guys. I don't know if any of you have read my Heat Series, but please check them out if you would like. For those interested in femslash (can I make the assumption since you're reading this?), the final installment will be a femslash one-shot featuring Hermione and... a character of your choice! Please go to my profile page and vote in the poll, and you guys get to pick the character. It will just take a second. ;) **

On Friday night, Hermione and I went out for dinner with Abby and her girlfriend Macy. We all had a great time – Abby told a few hilarious stories I hadn't heard yet about the Quidditch team; in return, Hermione and I shared the tale of our coming out. Macy was fairly quiet, but smiled hugely and seemed comfortable.

Unfortunately, the two of us went to bed as soon as we got home. Hermione had stayed up late Thursday night getting all of her work done, thinking we would be able to have some 'fun' on Valentine's Day, but when she saw how worn out I was and remembered that I had a game the following day, she refused my advances. Finally I gave in, only after promising I would make it up to her after the match.

I got up earlier on Saturday than she did, because I had to be at the pitch an hour before the game started. The warm-ups and then the match seemed to fly by, and suddenly the green-clad fans were cheering and Kristin was holding the Snitch in her hand.

For a good ten minutes, it was chaos. The changing rooms were supposed to be closed, but it seemed like a decent percentage of the crowd had managed to worm its way in. Some of them appeared to be boyfriends of team members – or at least I hoped they were, considering all the celebratory kissing going on. I spotted Macy and greeted her with a wave before being tacked by Abby in an excited hug. Some of the other intruders were press, thankfully free of cameras. Quite a few seemed to be looking for autographs, with various body parts painted green. One teenage girl even sported transfigured talon-hands for the occasion. None of our other games had been like this – but then, we were getting late in the (very promising) season. If things kept going the way they were, we had a shot at the European Cup.

Finally, after all my stuff was gathered up, I left the changing room. Hermione, grinning and waving a green flag, was standing just outside. In my excitement, I kissed her boldly, and she was still smiling (and blushing a little) when I pulled back.

"You didn't want to come find me in the changing room?" I teased, throwing an arm across her shoulders as we walked out of the stadium.

"It's against the rules, Gin," she sighed, falling back into the "Hermione Voice" that was usually reserved for when she caught me drinking alcohol.

"Didn't seem to stop them," I snickered as my eyes landed on Talon Girl and her friends. They were waving strips of paper, probably autographs, in the air.

Hermione raised her eyebrows but didn't comment. I could tell she was thinking something having to do with not understanding Quidditch. She had that sort of expression on her face.

After we left the stadium, we apparated back into the flat. Hermione's face spread into a slow grin.

"Ginny?"

"Mmhmm?"

"I do believe you promised me something," she whispered, holding me gently by the front of my jacket.

"Really?" I teased with a grin. "I think you might have to remind me about it."

She pulled me in for a slow, scorching kiss, and by the time she let go I couldn't think of a witty reply.

"Oh... right," I gasped. Then I began to undo the buttons on her coat. She returned the favour and we both dropped the garments to the floor. As her hands slid underneath my Holyhead Harpies sweater, she remarked, "You know, I never thought I'd see you playing in green."

Those may have been the last coherent words spoken that night.

A few weeks later, it snowed quite late in the season. The Ministry was supposedly functioning, and Hermione could have taken the Floo Network in if she really wanted to, but, horrible influence that I am, I managed to convince her that her very real and very slight cold could become fatal. As for me, Gwenog had contacted us all the night before, as soon as the weather had gotten bad, and called off practice. That left a day off for the two of us, and I intended to spend it well.

By which, of course, I meant sleeping.

Alright, maybe not the whole day. I woke up around eleven to find Hermione in the kitchen drinking cocoa and reading the Muggle paper. With a wave of my wand I had hot cocoa of my own making itself (after living with my mother for so long, household spells eventually became second nature). I only hesitated a moment before giving it another wave and watching ingredients for cinnamon buns fly out of their respective cabinets.

By the time breakfast was finished, Hermione had left the kitchen and was reading one of her Christmas present books in the living room (which was, of course, really just the other side of the same room). I levitated the tray with the cinnamon buns and another cocoa for each of us, setting it down in front of her without spilling a drop. She looked up from her book.

"Very nice, Gin. I'm impressed," she said, referring to the magic at first, but then obviously having the same opinion of the food after tasting.

"That was the goal," I told her, unable to stop a grin. I couldn't help it – I was pleased with myself. Struck with inspiration, I remembered to add one final touch, shooting a fire into the grate out of the tip of my wand.

"Thanks, love," Hermione sighed. She leaned back further into the sofa and pulled her sweater a little tighter around herself. I curled up on a chair, warm and content to watch her. For a while, at least.

Eventually, thought, I got bored. "Hermione?"

There was a pause as she drew herself out of the pages before answering, "Yes?"

"What are you reading about?"

"'The Complete History of Non-Wizard Beings and their Rights'," she replied in a monotone without looking up.

After taking a moment to process, I inquired, "Like house elves and centaurs?"

My only reply was a nod.

"Is it interesting?" I asked a minute later.

"You can see for yourself once I'm finished." Her voice had almost a Luna Lovegood-like quality, and by now I knew she was barely listening.

"Er... no thanks," I laughed. She didn't respond.

"Can I read it with you?" The words were out of my mouth before I realized I had thought them. This surprised Hermione, and she looked up. Eyebrows knitted together, she nodded and made room.

I draped myself along the couch next to her, curling into her side like a cold little puppy. Her arm wrapped around me and our eyes roamed the page for a few seconds together. After that, she continued reading as my eyelids slowly drooped and closed. I was perfectly content to sleep there all day, which is exactly what I did.

* * *


	13. In Which I Encounter an Old Flame

**A/N: Oh god. 6 months. I'm sorry. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) I'm brimming with ideas for this story now, so you all might see some more timely updates. But I don't know. Anyways, there is an OC in here and it's intended to be a bit enigmatic - so whatever you don't understand in this chapter will be explained in the next. Review, please, and any ideas for future chapters are appreciated. :)**

Finally it warmed up, much to Hermione's and my delight. Not having to deal with the cold seemed to make everything easier. I was amazed at how a simple change in the weather made Quidditch practice less painful, getting to work less exhausting, and finding time to spend with my girlfriend a hell of a lot easier.

We managed to stay in touch with the family as well – getting constant updates on Fleur's pregnancy, having Ron over for dinner a couple of times (and he seemed more and more comfortable), and making plans to attend a party at Hermione's parents' house. Of course, she told them she was bringing a 'friend', but our plans were to let them know the truth while helping out after the party.

On a warm Sunday mid-March, I woke up feeling… I couldn't find a word. Antsy? Restless? Obviously I was happier than I had ever been with Hermione, that wasn't the problem. It had just been so long since I'd done anything but worked. I found myself missing that feeling I had gotten on New Year's Eve – the pride I had gotten out of showing her off. I wanted to be like Abby and Macy; the way they had kissed openly in the locker room after winning our most recent match had been so adorable I couldn't help but grin. _They_ were completely open about being together, and I had loved the way it felt when everyone watched us kiss at Fred and George's party. I was going to take Hermione out.

With that decided, I set to waking her up in a very… pleasant manner. That did, admittedly, make it take a bit longer to get ready, but eventually we were dressed and ready and stepped out the door of her flat, heading for the Leaky Cauldron.

Once in Diagon Alley, we shopped around a bit. I tried to be subtle about my secret plan, but subtlety has never really been my strong point. Either way, Hermione didn't seem to mind when I first took her hand, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders when she seemed comfortable.

"You're okay with this, aren't you?" I asked her, partially because I didn't want to misread her body language and partially just as an excuse to lean in close and whisper in her ear.

"Sure," she replied softly, grinning. "Just please don't try anything inappropriate."

Feigning shock, I gasped, "Would I ever dare to do that?"

She just grinned and kissed me for the briefest of moments.

After she had bought a few fancy quills and a new book that she absolutely _had _to have, we got an outside table at a little café next to Eeylops. Lots of people seemed to be taking advantage of the nice weather, and Hermione and I knew a fair few of them, but I was shocked by the face I saw when a voice called out from my left.

"Ginny?"

I turned, expecting to see a school friend or someone from the Harpies, but it was neither. Well, she was from Hogwarts, but I wouldn't exactly call her a friend…

"Kira?"

She half-grinned, half-smirked. Overconfidence had always been one of her best and worst traits simultaneously. "Who's your friend?"

"You know Hermione Granger, from the year between us," I reminded her. My heart skipped just the tiniest bit as I added, "She's my girlfriend."

"Granger? Really. Never would have pegged you for a queer."

Hermione seemed like she was beginning to get annoyed (or furious), so I decided some introductions were in order. "'Mione, this is Kira. Ravenclaw, one year above you?"

"Right," she nodded, recognition clear on her face. The short, butch haircut, baggy clothes, and undeniably sexy confidence (_Stop it, Ginny!_) were unmistakable. I watched Hermione take it all in, trying to get a hold of myself. It wasn't that I was interested in Kira exactly, it was just… complicated.

"And…" Hermione fumbled for conversation. "How do you two know each other?" I could tell she had a very good idea of the answer to her question, but I _really_ didn't want to talk about it.

Thankfully, Kira supplied. "We bonded over Umbridge." That, actually, was true. I had seen lots of detentions my fourth year, never having learned to control myself in the bitch's class. As for Kira, who had been out as a lesbian since she was thirteen, Umbridge just didn't like her, and seemed to look for excuses to land her in detention. That probably had something to do with her dislike for anything 'different' – be it non-wizard beings, Muggleborns, or gays, Umbridge would try her best to stamp it out.

"Yeah," I nodded, pulling a face. "Fond memories, that's for sure." The topic of Hogwarts' former High Inquisitor relaxed the tension between us a little bit; we all hated her with a passion. Kira pulled up a chair without being asked, which didn't surprise me at all. I shot frequent calming looks at Hermione, who slowly became attuned to the crude, blunt, slightly conceited woman sitting with us.

After a good twenty minutes of talking, Hermione gasped as she remembered some sort of giant book she needed for work research. I offered to go with her – me staying with Kira was probably a really bad idea – but Kira asked me to stay so we could catch up. Hermione (with ice in her eyes) said she didn't mind, so I stayed.

"So," began Kira after my girlfriend was out of earshot.

"How've you been?" I asked, praying that the conversation would stay innocent. "It's been years, hasn't it?"

"Bullshit," she grinned. She knew what I was trying to do. Nothing was ever innocent with her. "So, you and Granger?"

I nodded. "Yes. I love her."

"I don't doubt it. I'm glad you found someone, kid." She was, at least, sincere. She had always cared about me, I knew that much. But, she was blunt like no one I had ever known before – "Think you can keep her? You won't get sick of her?"

Taking a deep breath, I replied, "I've loved her since my fifth year."

Kira's eyes glittered mischievously. "After me, then." Instead of saying anything, I just nodded. "But you haven't told her about me," she continued. It wasn't a question.

"There's nothing to tell. We had a thing. It was four years ago!" I exclaimed, blushing at the memory.

"You're blushing."

"You're impossible." I shook my head, remembering why I had fallen for her, and why it hadn't worked, in the same thought.

"I bet you told her you were a virgin," she said. I had no idea where the conversation was going. She didn't seem hostile, just amused, but I had never been able to read her as well as she could read me. "I bet you told famous Harry Potter you were a virgin too."

"I was a virgin before Harry. In case you don't recall, you and I never had sex!" Shit, people were looking. _Keep your voice down, Gin_.

"Came pretty damn close," she muttered. "Good times, mmm?"

I had to grin in spite of myself. "Indeed." Then, deciding to give her a taste of her own medicine, I smirked as rudely as I possibly could and added, "Until you ripped my heart out."

"For God's sake, Gin, you were fifteen! Two years is a big difference at that age!"

"Whatever," I shook my head. "It doesn't matter now anyway. I've got 'Mione."

Her eyes softened. "I am sorry. I didn't mean it to turn out like that. And…" she paused. She _never_ hesitated, so I knew she was about to say something really offensive. "I'm sorry you still want me."

My eyes widened and I choked on my drink and sputtered something about her being an idiot. When I could breathe again, I hissed, "I love Hermione and if you think just because we're older now you can fucking waltz back into my life and –"

"That's not what I'm trying to do! This is all my fault," she sighed. "You were so young and so curious and I got your hopes up. And you've wondered ever since what it would be like. With me. And I'm actually very sorry for that."

The thing about Kira was, I could deny it all I wanted and she wouldn't believe me. She was right, of course, she was always right when it came to reading people. And she knew that she was dead on. I was so embarrassed – the fact that at nineteen years old, four years after our relationship (if it could even be called that) I was still like an open book to her.

"And also…" she continued. I looked up from the spot on the table I had been staring at. "If something ever goes wrong here…" she motioned to me to lean in, and I did. Into my ear now, she whispered, "Well, you're older now. If you ever need anything – _anything_ – I'm here. Okay?"

I knew full well what she was implying, and in that moment I made one of the stupidest mistakes of my life.

What I _should_ have done was pull back, shocked, and yell at her that I was in a meaningful relationship and just because _she _was a whore didn't mean that I was going to go around sleeping with every old flame I encountered. And, believe it or not, that is actually what I was thinking.

Unfortunately, I was too stunned to form the words, so I just stared at her. And it was at that moment, after Kira's whispering in my ear and me pulling back to look at her intensely, shocked and confused, that Hermione cleared her throat to make her presence known.

"'Mione," I began, "I –"

She interrupted me, eyes glinting. "Kira, I think you'd better leave."

_Shit._


	14. And Do Something Really Stupid

**A/N: It's about an hour and a half after I posted the last chapter. I'm rather disappointed in Ginny, she's being quite naughty. And I suppose this is another cliffhanger. So review, dear readers, review!**

_Unfortunately, I was too stunned to form the words, so I just stared at her. And it was at that moment, after Kira's whispering in my ear and me pulling back to look at her intensely, shocked and confused, that Hermione cleared her throat to make her presence known._

_"'Mione," I began, "I –"_

_She interrupted me, eyes glinting. "Kira, I think you'd better leave."_

_Shit._

"Hermione, I can explain!" I jumped up from the table, yanking away the hand that Kira had grasped. I could already see the tears forming in my girlfriend's eyes.

"No, seriously, Granger, she can," added Kira. "This is absolutely my fault."

I couldn't help but admire the strength and intensity in Hermione's eyes as she drew herself up to her full height and shook her head. "Go."

That was all she said, and that was all she needed to say. With an apologetic look at the both of us, Kira turned and left.

The journey back to Hermione's flat was absolute hell. I wanted to explain, to get it over with so Hermione's mind would stop going where I knew it was going. But every time I tried to speak, she either ignored me or gave some terse response that allowed for no conversation.

Finally we were back in her flat and seated at opposite ends of the kitchen table, like a divorce scene in a bad Muggle film. I waited for her to speak, but when it seemed like she didn't want to and I wouldn't get interrupted again, I began.

"Nothing happened, 'Mione, I swear to you." She didn't say anything, so I continued. "Kira was the first girl I ever dated, back in my fourth year. _Before_ I liked you. I know what you saw and I know what it looked like, but it wasn't like that."

"So what was it like?" she hissed. "I leave you for five minutes in broad daylight in the middle of Diagon Alley and come back to find that butch harlot whispering Merlin-knows-what into your ear; exactly how am I supposed to interpret that?"

"She _was_ putting a move on me, I'll admit that much. But do you honestly think I would have reciprocated? In all your years of knowing me, have I ever given any reason for you to think I'd be unfaithful to anyone I'm in a relationship with, let alone the girl of my dreams?"

"Actually, since you were supposed to be dating Michael Corner at the time…"

"Really? Are you honestly going to pull that one? Because I know you liked me when you dated Ron!"

When Hermione didn't reply, I went into the long version of the story – something I had really hoped to avoid.

"Okay, look. When I was fourteen I figured out I was gay. I went to her, because I knew she'd been through it. It was _innocent,_ we were friends. She helped me come to terms with it. Nothing happened until I got a crush on her the next year.

"I really don't want to get into all this, but basically what happened was she knew I liked her for about a month before she made a move, and we ended up having this really stormy up-and-down thing for maybe five weeks. That's all. And some of it was over winter holiday; we barely even saw each other. We kissed maybe twice over that whole time, and I swear to you she never touched me."

Hermione glanced up, surprised. "She seems so vulgar. There is no way I can believe she never laid a hand on you."

"I'm not to the end yet," I continued. "She wasn't exactly comfortable with the age gap. She'd go back and forth between 'You're worth it and I want to be with you' and 'You're too young and I can't do this'. The whole time. Basically she made promises she couldn't keep."

"Meaning…?" Hermione pressed.

I sighed. "Since I wasn't out and she was so much older and we didn't want to get in trouble… we didn't always meet in person. We owled a _lot_. Some of the letters involved… descriptions of what she wanted to do to me when we could finally be together." Hermione glowered, but I pressed on. "I was young and _so_ hormonal and everything she said to me got me… well, really excited. I trusted her too much and kept telling myself she'd come to terms with it. I was so sure we were going to have sex and then… she broke it off. Forever. Seriously, 'Mione, I've talked to her maybe four times including today in the past three years."

"And she was whispering…?"

I had to lie. I couldn't explain this part. I just couldn't. "Kira is… a bit full of herself. She thinks that because we never had sex I have some repressed desire to fuck her and was all 'If you ever need anything I'm here for you' and I swear I would have told her no if you hadn't walked up." Actually, it wasn't a lie. I would have said no… as much as every fibre of my physical being was dying to say yes.

Hermione didn't say anything.

"Please believe me, 'Mione. I told her at least five times during our conversation that I love you and had no desire to be with her anymore. And if I was having a fucking affair, don't you think I'd be smarter than to introduce you to the girl and let her whisper in my ear in Diagon Alley?"

"I just don't know," she sighed, shaking her head. "You obviously weren't honest enough to tell me about her in the first place."

"I didn't think there was anything to tell! How was I supposed to know that you would freak out because I've had one relationship with one other girl, four years ago?"

"Was she the only one?"

I blushed. "Well, no… not exactly. But all of the others were after I was in love with you. None of them meant anything! They didn't matter!"

Her eyes traced a path to the ceiling and back down. "Well, I appreciate your honesty and the fact that you waited patiently for me," she said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

I blew up then, and I'll admit it freely. Without another word I left the kitchen, threw some clothes into my Quidditch duffel bag, and walked out of the flat.

Once on the street, I hurriedly signaled the Knight Bus and whispered in a voice thick with suppressed tears, "Kira Helder. Do you need an address?"

* * *

When I showed up at Kira's front door, she let me in without question. We each cracked open a Muggle soda – tea wasn't her style – and as soon as we were seated she inquired, "You get kicked out?"

I shook my head. "I left. She wouldn't believe me that nothing happened, and honestly I'm a bit shaken up anyways."

"Gin, I'm sorry, this is totally my– what do you mean? Did something else happen?" she looked even more worried.

"No, other than the fact that you were right and I do still want you. I just… I love her so much, and I don't know what to do." Exhausted, I nearly started to cry before Kira stopped me.

"You can't help that," she sighed. "It's curiosity. You think after letting my mind wander for over a month about what if would feel like to touch you that I don't want you too? It doesn't make you love her any less."

"But…" I gave one short sob before continuing. "I can't do that to her, I shouldn't even be here and I can't –"

Her hand came up to cup my cheek, and her thumb slowly moved where a tear had fallen just under my eye. As our lips touched, a million lines from the letters we had exchanged when I was just fifteen years old replayed in my head, and I was shocked to discover that I had actually memorized her words.

I gasped when her arms wrapped around me and she began to carry me out of the room. I was on my back on her bed with her hands up my shirt before it occurred to me to protest, and by then I could only manage a weak, "Kira!"

Immediately looking guilty, she removed her hands and asked, "Do you want me to stop?"

I paused. This was the first girl I had ever been in love with, the girl who had helped me come to terms with who I was and watched out for me without me even asking, the girl I had exchanged naughty words with but never had the chance to actually get physical… and I knew that, no matter how much I loved Hermione, I didn't want her to stop in the least.

So I pulled her back for another kiss, and wrapped my legs around her waist.

When I woke up the next morning, Kira was out of bed and I could hear her in the kitchen. I walked in, not bothering to put on clothes, and watched her make toast until she brought the plate and two glasses of orange juice to the table. We ate breakfast together, naked, not talking about 'us' or Hermione or anything of real relevance, ignoring the world for just a little longer.

Finally I looked straight at her and said, "This can't happen."

She nodded and swallowed. "No shit, Rowena." Her sarcasm mildly amused me, but I continued.

"I have to go back to Hermione. I have to tell her the truth about what happened last night. I'm sure she's already put two and two together and knows what I've done." Tears filled my eyes again as I added, "And I don't blame her if she doesn't take me back."

"She will," assured Kira. "You both overreacted, and honestly I would have fucked me too if I were in your position, just to piss her off."

I shook my head. "I've got to go. Thank you for… well, breakfast. And sex. I guess."

Grinning, Kira stood up. "You're still cute, Gin. Granger's lucky." After a final kiss, I got dressed in the hallway where I had dropped my bag, and then walked out without looking back.


	15. Advice Because I'm an Idiot

**A/N: This is a bit short, but I didn't continue it in this chapter because A) It would end up ridiculously long if I put the actual plan in, and B) I actually don't know what the plan is yet. So suggestions are appreciated. Also, this story is getting a bit long... big thanks to anyone who's sticking with me and enjoying it! My goal is to keep you guys happy, so if there's anything you'd like to see, just say the word!**

As much as I wanted to go find Hermione, or go to the Burrow and cry to mum like when I was younger, or curl up in 'Mione's and my bed, eat chocolate, and try to overcome my guilt, none of those things were productive, nor were they possible as it was a Monday. Hermione would most likely already be at work, and I was going to be late if I didn't hurry.

As soon as I reached a secluded alley, I Apparated to the one right next to the apartment building that housed Hermione's flat. But when I got to the door, I found that it was locked (and like an idiot, I had forgotten my fucking key) and there was a note that read simply:

_Ginevra- Don't bother. I know where you were.  
_

Luckily Hermione had also placed an extra duffel bag with my Quidditch clothes in it on the floor outside the door. Another wave of guilt washed over me when I saw the favor she had done. _You never deserved her_, I thought miserably, picking up the bag in addition to the one I already had and heading back down to the lobby of the building.

I was late and I knew it, so I headed back for the alley and Apparated again, this time to just a block away from where the Harpies bus would pick me up. I sprinted there, making it just as the bus pulled up. Kristin gave me a funny look, and Abby looked at me with concern when I heaved myself into the seat next to her, but I just shook my head, refusing to answer.

I was distracted through the first half of practice, but as my muscles warmed up and I let myself relax, I began to focus a little better. Quidditch had always helped; the reason I played so well when Harry got kicked off of the team and I took his place was probably because I was wrestling with the end of my feelings for Kira and the first hint of those for Hermione at the time. When I played, I could turn my emotions into energy (the most likely reason why I was such an aggressive player) and allow instinct to take over and control my body. This, in turn, let my mind focus on my other problems, which always took on a clearer light when looked at from a broomstick.

When training was finally over for the day, I was exhausted from playing so hard, and Gwenog actually congratulated me on a great practice. Abby, however, wasn't fooled, and stopped me as we were leaving the locker room.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" she reached a hand out to touch my shoulder gently.

Not wanting to talk about it, I replied, "I'm fine. I've got to be getting home."

"I know that look, and you've got two bags with you," she smiled sadly. "You're not going home, are you?"

I sighed. "Not tonight, at least. I, erm… well. Hermione and I had a fight, and I… may have cheated on her."

Abby's eyes widened. "Is that why you fought? Shit, Ginny, I didn't think anything could mess you two up."

Sinking heavily down onto a bench and dropping my bags next to me, I shook my head. "We ran into this old girlfriend of mine in Diagon Alley, and Hermione went to get something and came back and I guess it looked bad… and she wouldn't believe me that nothing happened." By now I was out of breath and choking every few words. "And then she was all 'well thanks for being honest and faithful' or something and I blew up and left. And… went to Kira's house."

"Kira being your ex?" Abby inquired. I nodded. "And you slept with her." It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "Jesus, Gin. I don't know what to tell you. I mean, I'm sorry… but that was really, really stupid."

I didn't have the energy to argue or get offended, and I knew she was right, so I sighed, "I know. But I want to fix it." There was silence for a minute before I asked, "Do you and Macy ever fight?"

"Of course," Abby settled down on the bench next to me. "But about little, stupid things, never anything like this… I trust her. And she trusts me. It sounds like Hermione doesn't trust you completely… nor does she have reason to."

Merlin. Merlin, I had fucked up. Abby was completely right. In my anger at Hermione's mistrust, I had proven her point perfectly. I started full-out sobbing then, unable to bear the fact that I may have ruined my chances with the girl I'd been in love with for three years. "Fuck, Abby, what do I do?"

She pulled me into a hug, smoothing a hand up and down my back. "The first step?" she moved back to look into my eyes. "Time."

* * *

Abby was right, of course, so I lugged my shit to Grimmauld Place, hoping Harry wouldn't mind me sleeping on his couch. I would have Apparated, but I had no idea what kind of wards he still had up, and as I dragged my two huge duffel bags, I mentally kicked myself for not asking when I had the chance.

Eventually I reached Harry's place and knocked on the door. He let me in immediately and agreed to let me stay the night after I explained the situation. We fixed dinner together, the last of the post-relationship awkwardness evaporating as we did so. It almost felt like old times, joking and pretending everything was okay. Except this time, it wasn't my own sexuality and secret crush nagging on my mind; it was the object of said affection.

We ate dinner and talked about work and Harry's being an Auror and basically everything except the subject my mind wouldn't avoid. Finally he set down his knife and fork and said, "Okay, honestly Gin, you're shit at making conversation."

I sighed again. "I'm sorry, I just can't concentrate. I'd ask you for advice, but I think you'd be as good as giving it as I am at thinking right now. No offense," I hastily added.

"Well…" he didn't deny that he would be hopeless at giving romantic advice. "Why not go to Fred and George? They're certainly done their share of screwing things up."

With a grin, I replied, "Good idea. Thanks, Harry!"

"No need to sound so surprised," he muttered, but I was feeling better than I had all day, so I just grinned and took another sip of wine.

* * *

I went to see Fred and George the next day after practice, still lugging my bags. As Harry predicted, they greeted me with sympathetic nods of understanding, each clapping an arm around my shoulder and leading me in.

"So," I sighed after explaining my situation, "I don't know what to do or how to get her back, but she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and I can't let her go."

The twins looked at each other and then back at me. "Alright," said Fred. "Here's what we're going to do." And we all leaned in to discuss the plan.


	16. Phases One, Two and Three Fail Miserably

**A/N: Damn, I'm on fire! I rather liked writing this one, Fred and George are always fun. Review, please!

* * *

**

"Phase one go," whispered George into an imaginary microphone on the inside of his collar.

"Rodent, I would love if you would stop treating this like a joke," I hissed back.

"Relax, Ginny," he said, but dropped his collar anyway. "Would you just commence phase one?"

I rolled my eyes, but nodded. Then I deliberately raised my left hand and scratched my ear, making sure Fred could see the signal across the pub. Fred then crossed the room and stood looking out the window for a moment before yawning, stretching hugely, and coming to sit with us.

_That_ was the signal to Harry. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes again.

Fred and George were brilliant. If anyone could help me get Hermione back, they could. The problem with that was, they insisted on doing it their way. And 'their way' happened to involve ridiculous amounts of secret agent nonsense, and their old code names from Potterwatch. I was no longer allowed to call them Fred and George, they were Rapier and (much to George's distaste) Rodent.

At four twenty-five, right on schedule, Harry walked through the door with Hermione in tow. My heart practically jumped out of my chest when I saw her, and I hurriedly turned away, gasping at the sensation. "Fuck," I whispered, pulling my bangs down to hide my face.

The twins grinned at each other. "Miss her?" they chorused.

"You've no idea," I said, slumping down further into the booth. "I can't watch. How's it going?"

"Brilliant," they said in unison. Curiosity getting the better of me, I peered around the edge of the booth.

Harry and Hermione were seated in a booth by the window. At least, I assumed Harry was there. I couldn't take my eyes off of Hermione. She looked beautiful, of course. But she had circles under her eyes and she looked paler than usual. She was speaking about something – I would guess me, judging by her tense jaw and knitted eyebrows.

As I watched, the waitress brought two menus to their table. This was where it would either fall into place or fall apart. It had been easy to get the girl to slip the small envelope we had given her into one of the menus and instruct her to hand it to 'the woman sitting with Harry Potter'. But whether or not she got the right menu to Hermione, and Hermione's reaction, or whether she would read it at all, were debatable.

Harry was speaking now, and he continued chatting vaguely as he opened his menu, looking for all the world as if he wasn't expecting anything. Echoing my sentiments, Fred muttered "Bloke could've been an actor." I shushed him and kept watching.

While Harry talked, Hermione had opened her menu and curiously picked up the envelope that had fallen out. Exactly as I had predicted, she lifted a shaking hand to her mouth upon recognizing the handwriting.

An Extendable Ear was pressed into my hand and I took it without looking away, no longer caring how stupid I looked. I could now hear every word being spoken at the table my eyes were glued to.

"Harry, I –" she paused, searching for words.

He looked up innocently. "What's that?"

"You're not in on this?"

"What is it?" Harry asked again. God, I was going to have to thank him hundreds of times. And take him out to dinner. And buy him a fucking pony. Anything he wanted. God, he was doing brilliantly.

"It's from her," Hermione whispered. Tears were coming to her eyes.

"Mayday, mayday!" exclaimed one of the twins from behind me. I threw a slap in his general direction, effectively shutting him up.

"Harry… I have to go," she sniffed, throwing the letter down. "I'm sorry."

And then she fucking walked out of the pub.

After waiting until she was out of sight, Harry joined us at our table. "Sorry, Gin," he sighed. "I tried."

"I know," I nodded. "She knows, though, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she's a smart girl," agreed Harry. "And it doesn't take a genius to guess where you would have gone that night."

My head was in my hands and I was staring at the table. "Come on," Fred said, clapping me on the back. "It's just phase one."

Ignoring him, I stood and crossed to the table by the window. Hermione had left the note… but it was opened. Maybe she had had time to read it before storming out. I hoped to Merlin she had. I picked it up from where it was lying facedown and reread it, though I had written and memorized it.

_Hermione –_

_You were absolutely right to be upset and I was absolutely wrong to run off like that. Being with you was the best thing to ever happen to me and betraying you was the stupidest mistake I've ever made in my entire life. I know I don't deserve you and never have, but I want to apologize and promise you that if you ever need a friend or want me back (for some unfathomable reason, because I know I wouldn't take me back if I were you) I will always wait for you. I love you and some stupid bitch of an ex-girlfriend thinking she can waltz back into my life, and me being a huge idiot, is not going to change that._

_- Ginny_

I crumpled the paper up in my hand.

* * *

Phase two was simpler – a single red rose in a vase, waiting for Hermione on her kitchen table. With it was a piece of paper marked with a golden 'G'.

We had decided to wait two weeks before beginning the plan at all, and two more weeks before starting phase three, so it was late April by the time we made another move. In the meantime, I was back in my old room at the Burrow, being smothered by my very disapproving mother. Of course, I hadn't told her exactly the nature of our dispute – she would have killed me – but she didn't like that we were fighting, regardless of the reason.

Phase three was originally planned to be 'casual random encounter in a public place with plenty of eyewitnesses' but mum had different ideas. Charlie and Roxana had sent out save-the-dates a while back, which absolutely thrilled her to pieces. But, as he didn't have Hermione's address, we hadn't gotten one. So mum's brilliant plan for phase three was for me to take over an invitation to Hermione.

I did so on a Saturday morning. Fred waited outside the apartment building for me, as I trudged up the stairs with a white flag of truce. Literally. I carried a white flag in one hand and the invite in the other.

Hermione came to the door rather quickly, and made to shut it in my face before I exclaimed, "Wait!" She gave me a classic Hermione look, but waited.

"I'm not here to bother you, I promise," I assured her. "Mum sent me to give you this. Charlie and Roxana are engaged."

"Oh," she said, suddenly looking at the ground so intensely that her chin nearly touched her chest. She took the invitation.

"It's in June," I continued, "at the Burrow."

"What's in your hand?" she interrupted before I could babble more about the wedding.

I almost grinned, but stopped myself. "Erm… flag of truce. Fred's idea."

"Right," she nodded, and I couldn't tell if she was fighting a smile or trying to keep from rolling her eyes. "Well… bye, Ginny."

"Bye," I whispered, but the door was already closed.

I was back on the street and had started to walk away with Fred's arm around my shoulders before I realized how much it hurt. My heart was pounding and I could feel it all over my body.

"Fred?" I asked. "Out of curiosity, how many phases are in this plan of yours?"

"It's Rapier," he teased, "and as many as it takes."

"Fuck it," I sighed. "This could take a while."


	17. So I Proceeded to Get Drunk and Cry

**A/N: Finally, it's not angst! Please excuse any inaccuracies in my portrayal of drunkenness... I've been drunk only once, and that was more 'tipsy' than anything. This is my attempt. Review, please!  


* * *

**

May passed uneventfully. Fred, George and I kept up The Master Plan to Win Back Hermione, to no avail. Some parts were simple and subtle – a few more flowers, a book I recalled her mentioning that she wanted, all delivered anonymously. Others were more extreme – one idea that I immediately rejected was standing outside her apartment building and serenading her by moonlight. One that I did go through with was a giant, flashy sign placed across the street, so she could see it from her window.

I became a little concerned that she would think I was stalking her, so Phase Seven was another letter, explaining that I was trying to show her that I still loved her and would do anything for her, but if she wanted me to stop, just to say the word and I would. No reply ever came, so we pressed on.

By the time it was June and the wedding was coming up, I was ready to give up. We were on Phase Sixteen by then, and none were working. I knew she would be at the wedding, but I steeled myself to leave her alone, to stop bothering her.

In the days leading up to the wedding, Mum kept me busy. I begged Fred and George to come home and help with the endless cleaning and preparations, but they looked at me like I was insane. Of course, in thinking that they would put themselves through that kind of torture, I suppose I was.

I didn't mind the cleaning so much. I had been horribly bored since returning to live at the Burrow, and it gave me something to do. Also, I was eager to see Charlie and Roxana again, and keeping busy made the time go faster.

Finally it was the day before the wedding, and Charlie arrived with Roxana and her parents. Mr. and Mrs. Marandici were both tall, like their daughter, and in excellent shape. Mrs. Marandici's facial features were almost identical to Roxana's. They were both as soft-spoken as she had proven herself to be on Christmas, and spoke with accents that I loved to listen to. They seemed eager to help with preparing for the wedding in any way they could, and liked hearing stories about my brothers and me from when we were little.

Mrs. Marandici and I were making up the bed in Percy's old room that night when she said, "Roxana told me of your Hermione."

I looked up, having felt and ignored the pang in my chest. "What did she tell you?"

"She said you seemed very good for each other. And she wondered why your Hermione was not here now."

"Well," I shifted uncomfortably. As much as I liked the Marandicis, they made me a bit uncomfortable. "We've had a fight. A rather large one."

Mrs. Marandici nodded sympathetically. "What is meant to be will happen," she said.

I wasn't sure if she was trying to comfort me in telling me that our separation was meant to be, or assure me that change was coming yet. So, I simply replied, "Thank you, Mrs. Marandici."

"Please, call me Tereza," she laughed, pulling me into a hug. Yes, the Marandicis were weird, but no one could say they weren't friendly.

The next day, beginning around four, friends and relatives poured in, and in all the chaos, I didn't even see Hermione. I, along with Tereza, helped Roxana get ready – she looked beautiful, of course. All of my brothers kept landing good-looking girls.

"Ginevra," she called after I had done up her dress in the back and was getting ready to go and make sure Mum didn't need any help in the kitchen.

"Ginny," I corrected automatically, though I had done it several times already and she hadn't listened.

As I predicted, Roxana just smiled and didn't correct herself. "Hermione is here, yes?"

I took a deep breath and nodded. I really didn't want to talk about her.

"She will come back to you," Roxana continued. "Don't worry."

Merlin's balls, they were weird.

I helped mum in the kitchen until everything was ready for supper, and by then we had to rush out to the backyard. We had just sat down in the front row of seats when the wedding began. Honestly, I spaced through most of it. I do remember it being pretty, simple, and short, but other than that, nothing.

Afterwards, as the sun was beginning to set, we all sat down at a long table dad and some of the boys had set up. The wedding was smaller than Bill and Fleur's, with fewer extra guests. Of course, when you're a Weasley, the family itself takes up enough room.

A few of Roxana's friends had been bridesmaids, and her younger brother had arrived just before the wedding began. Charlie had brought several coworkers from Romania, and some old friends from Hogwarts, one of whom served as his best man. There were some old Order members as well, and Luna Lovegood (though I was fairly certain she had just waltzed in). And, of course, Hermione.

We were seated at opposite ends of the table at dinner, so that wasn't a problem. Fred, who was sitting next to me, kept nudging me and trying to convince me to talk to her, but I refused. Clearly she wasn't going to forgive me, and honestly I didn't blame her. Roxana was wrong; she wasn't coming back.

So I proceeded to have a bit more wine than I should have.

That's hippogriff shit. I had much more than I should. I wasn't stumbling around or puking or anything, but I was a bit dizzy and when I passed one of the windows in the house, lit up by the lanterns we had set outside, I could see that my face was steadily approaching the color of my hair. And I had long passed the point where I had any control over what idiotic words happened to come out of my mouth.

I talked to Luna for a while, and started wondering why we had so much in common lately. All of her insane creatures suddenly made a lot more sense, and we discussed them avidly for a while until my eyes landed on Hermione across the dance floor.

Of course. Luna didn't really make sense at all. I was just agreeing with everything she said because I was shitfaced. Seeing Hermione instantly cleared my head, at least long enough to set me in a bitchy mood and say goodbye to Luna.

I walked around to the other side of the dance floor where there were chairs and benches set up. Seating myself on a bench tucked under a magnolia tree (it was fake, George had spelled it to grow there that morning), I kicked off my shoes, brought my knees into my chest, and cried (another sign that I was inebriated – I would never have let anyone see me cry in public otherwise).

It was dark enough by that point that I wasn't too conspicuous, and most people knew enough about the Weasley tempers to leave me alone. But one didn't.

"Ginny?" Too lost in self-pity and hatred to identify the voice, I ignored it. "Gin, please don't cry."

I looked up. It was Hermione. I burst into tears again.

"Please tell me what's wrong," she tried again, scooting a little closer and placing a hand on my shoulder.

"It's me, you dumbass," I sobbed, slurring my words just slightly. "Well, it's you, but it's my fault, and Loony was talking about her stupid Crumple-Horned Fuckthingies and I knew what she was talking about and I'm _drunk_ and Roxana's mum is crazy and – "

"Gin. I hate to interrupt but I have absolutely no idea what you're saying."

"It's okay, I don't either," I half-laughed, lifting my head off of my knees and leaning back against the tree.

"You really are drunk," she said disapprovingly.

I nodded. "Sorry."

"I'm not too offended," Hermione shrugged. "You've done worse." It was all too obvious the amount of effort she had to go through to keep the pain out of her voice.

"'Mione," I sighed. "I've said it all before. But I'm the stupidest bitch ever and Kira is a fucktard and _I'm_ more of one and the sex wasn't as good and she doesn't make me feel like you do and I could never love her as much as I love you. I love you like Fleur loves her hair. Like Draco loves dick. Like Fred and George love this stupid secret agent plan."

"You _have_ said all that before," she nodded. I hung my head in defeat. "But it's definitely funnier when you're drunk." I sniffled, choked, and grinned, and she slipped an arm around me.

"And I'll tell you a secret," she whispered. I tried to lean in, misjudged the distance, and collapsed on her. She pretended not to notice. "I thought the 'stupid secret agent plan' was rather adorable."

"Fred made me call him Rapier," I mumbled, heart pounding, trying to focus on what was happening.

"I love that you didn't give up," she continued.

"I did." I was going to give up that night. Now I was lying in her arms?

"I know you love me," Hermione spoke softly into my ear. "I know you were stupid… and if you ever do it again I will kick you out and never look back."

"'Mione…" I frowned. "I'm drunk, in case you hadn't noticed. You've got to be straight… straightforward with me here."

She laughed. "You're going fast, I can see it. You're about to pass out." I didn't deny it. "I'm saying that I will give you a second chance."

I tacked her, I'll admit it. I went to kiss her mouth and missed, and maybe bruised her cheek, but I was sure she'd forgive me. After sitting there for a few more minutes, she whispered in my ear, "I think we'd better leave before you get any worse."

At that point I was ready to fall over, so I agreed. "I'd better tell everyone goodbye. Am I coming with you?"

"Of course," she smiled, rolling her eyes.

Before going to congratulate Charlie and Roxana one final time, I stood there dumbfounded for a moment. After all I had gone through to win her back, all I had to do was get drunk and cry at a wedding?


	18. Which Way to the Baby Store?

**A/N: Haven't disclaimed for a while, so I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER AND I MAKE NO MONEY FROM MY PERVISH STORIES. That aside, I don't like this chapter much, but I'm sick and busy so it will do. Better stuff will come soon, I hope. Review, please!**

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* * *

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I groaned as the light hit my closed eyelids. With the dull red glow came a throbbing in my head that radiated throughout my whole body. _Merlin_, I thought, and tried to roll over. I groaned again and pressed my face into the pillow. _At least I'm not naked_.

"You okay, Ginny?" someone whispered, amusement clear in her voice.

Very slowly, I lifted my head. I was in Hermione's room, in Hermione's bed, with Hermione there. As the previous night came back to me, I grinned hugely and tackled my once-again girlfriend, hangover fading already.

"Gods, I missed you," I laughed delightedly, holding Hermione close.

"You too," the older girl sighed. "Feeling better?"

I nodded. "Already. But… I've got clothes on."

Hermione giggled. "And?"

"You brought me home last night," I said as if speaking to a small child. She nodded. "And my pyjamas are on?!"

"Gin, you passed out practically as soon as we got home. It was all I could do to get your wedding clothes off," she sighed patiently.

"Oh, shit," I said, sitting up in bed. "Did I offend anyone? Leaving the way I did?"

"No," Hermione yawned. "I imagine the party didn't last long after we left, Luna was running around nearly as drunk as you by that point. And Charlie looked very eager to leave, if you know what I mean."

I grinned. "I would've paid anything to see that. But I am sorry about the drinking. I know you don't like it."

"It was quite amusing," she admitted. "And I doubt I'd have taken as much pity on you if you hadn't been crying, which wouldn't have happened if you weren't plastered."

"True," I sighed, lying back down sleepily and slipping an arm around her. "What day is it?"

"Sunday," she replied, smiling down at me.

"Brilliant," I murmured. I was already falling back asleep. "Now, I'm gonna take a nap," I yawned, "and then I'm going to wake up and repay you for the … how many weeks has it been?"

I was asleep before I could hear her answer.

* * *

That Wednesday, the Harpies got beat in our semi-finals match. As dejected as we all were at the loss, I couldn't help but grin every time I saw Hermione out in the stands.

Back in the dressing room, the usual chaos was only slightly subdued. The game had been close, Gwenog told us she thought we had all played well, and the fans were already chattering about next year. By then Macy was a familiar face in the changing room, and she waved at me on her way to go greet Abby. I waved back and watched her go – they were one of the most adorable couples I'd ever seen – until I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.

I turned to see bushy hair for a split second before my eyes were closed and I was melting into a heated kiss. A few wolf-whistles erupted from around us, but most people were too caught up in the disorder to notice. Even _I _doubted it was really happening. I had always been the instigator of everything public, and Hermione and I had been taking it – well, not exactly slowly, but slower than before the fight.

When we pulled back, I grinned, a little waterlogged. "That was nice."

"I'm terribly sorry you lost."

She was so serious! I shook my head. "We'll stomp them next year."

She smiled. "I've missed you and your ridiculous obsession with Quidditch," she sighed, playing with my hair as her arms remained around my neck.

"I've missed you and your haughty attitude," I teased gently.

She wasn't offended, thankfully. "I've missed _you_," she whispered, and hugged me again.

"I've been back since Sunday," I reminded her, raising my eyebrows playfully.

"Well," she laughed, "I hadn't properly forgiven you yet."

"Do you forgive me now?"

She kissed me again. I think Abby congratulated us on the way out, but I was deaf to everything except my pulse beating wildly in my own ears.

* * *

"Ginny!" I heard Hermione's voice yell about a week later. It was early on a Saturday morning, and I hadn't managed to drag myself out of bed yet. I tried to call out as a reply, but was too tired and settled on a forced sort of grunt.

Seconds later, she was in the room, yanking me up by the arm. "It's important," she said, not angrily exactly, but certainly very tensely. "Come on."

When her urgency registered, I stopped making her pull me and ran with her to the fireplace, where Bill's head was waiting.

"Gin! I'm at St. Mungo's," he exclaimed as soon as he saw me. "It's the baby. Fleur's already in the room being taken care of."

"Isn't she due next month?" I asked hurriedly, immediately concerned.

Bill nodded nervously. "Everything seems to be fine, and the Veela blood makes Fleur stronger than she looks. But I just wanted to let you know what was going on. And I'll Floo again as soon I hear some more news."

"Like hell you will," I muttered, reaching into the pot of Floo powder on the mantle. "We're coming over now." I took it in my hand, waiting impatiently for Bill to pull his head back so I could use the fire.

"Gin?" both Bill and Hermione said, staring at my body.

I looked down. Pyjamas. "Right," I said, nodding. "We'll come over in a moment, then."

After that Hermione didn't argue, and I hurriedly changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, not bothering with a shower. We Floo'd to the waiting room number Bill had given us as fast as we could, and found him waiting for us.

"How is everything?" Hermione inquired nervously as soon as we had greeted him with hugs.

"Seems to be fine," he sighed. "But I'm waiting to let Mum and Dad know she's even in labour until it's more definite. Don't need any panic."

I nodded. "Good idea. How are you?"

Grinning, he replied, "I'm nervous. But excited. First Weasley child to produce a new beast!" he joked.

Hermione and I glanced at each other and smiled. "You know," I laughed, "I'm perfectly happy letting you keep that title for a long time." She nodded her agreement.

Bill seemed relaxed enough given the situation, and I could tell he was confident that Fleur was going to be okay. After all, he reminded us, this was only three weeks before the real due date, and Percy had been born something like five weeks early and totally fine. "Scrawny git, maybe," he sighed, "but fine."

Finally a Healer entered the room and announced that everything was stable enough for Bill to come and be with Fleur during the end of her labour. Hermione and I agreed to stay in the waiting room and Floo the news to everyone. Within minutes the tiny room was packed with the whole family except for Charlie and Roxana, who were still honeymooning somewhere in South America.

After the news that Fleur was fine, Hermione and I relaxed, and no one else had known there was any danger in the first place, so everyone chattered excitedly. Even Mum didn't seem nervous until the time wore on and on and finally she burst out of the waiting room and practically ran down the hall in search of Fleur's room, unable to bear not watching the birth. We all laughed so loud that a Healer working in a patient's room next door came and complained.

About half an hour passed and then Mum came running back, almost too excited to speak. Luckily we all knew what she was trying to say as soon as we heard her footsteps down the hall. The room erupted into noise again, and this time we refused to shut up until the Healer agreed to allow us all in the room at once as soon as the baby was cleaned up. "After all," Mum sighed, "Both Fleur and the baby need to get used to crowds if they're going to be Weasleys." The twins cheered.

Once in Fleur's room, we had the sense to become at least a little more subdued, if not for the fact that Fleur was exhausted and the baby was precariously hovering between content and screaming, then to keep Mum from having a breakdown as she struggled to hold in her tears. I found myself squished up against a back wall, unable to see even Bill, let alone Victoire, as they named the baby girl.

Eventually Fred and George left to go make sure the shop hadn't blown up, and Percy had to hurry off to a meeting that absolutely couldn't be rescheduled, and Mum remembered she had left dinner on the stove. Harry had been there too, of course, but as everyone trickled out, he hugged Hermione and I and left.

When we were the only ones there, we finally got to hold Victoire. Hermione took her first, since I was a little intimidated of babies ever since I heard a fourth-year mentioning that if you dropped them, they would bounce, as I was boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very first time. I had been mildly scared of babies ever since, but eventually I sat down in a chair and propped my legs up so there was no possible way I could drop her, and _then_ I held my niece.

She was very tiny, which was strange because Fleur had gotten quite big by that time, even with a month to go. She had Bill's eyes and Fleur's everything else; in fact, I would have bet that her mother's baby pictures would be almost indistinguishable. The light dusting of hair she had was white-blonde, and her mouth was sweet, and her face was quite pretty now that it wasn't screwed up and red with crying.

"Hermione," I breathed after holding her in silence for a few moments. "I think we may have to get one of these."


	19. Seduction, Hilarity, & Sweet Old Grandma

**A/N: I dunno about this one... I'm drying up for ideas again. If anyone has some suggestions, please let me know. But hey, not too bad on the update this time, right? Less than a month... I think. And yeah, quality over quantity, I know, but I'm doing my best. Review, please!**

Now, there's no need to worry. I came down from the baby cloud _very _quickly. Just a few seconds after I had fallen silent, fascinated by the little person in my arms, she opened her mouth, screwed up her face, and began to cry.

"On second thought," I turned to Hermione, "we could wait a few years. Or ten or fifteen."

The wails grew louder, and I hurriedly stood and handed Victoire back to Fleur. "Or we could babysit." As I caught a waft of the very smelly reason the baby had started to cry, I added, "Or visit. Briefly."

Everyone laughed, and I retreated away from the noisy, blotchy, stinky infant.

* * *

"Gin? Remember that film you and I watched last week?"

"Which one?" I inquired from where I lay facedown on the couch, a bag of ice sitting on the sore muscles of my back. We had watched plenty of Muggle films lately; Hermione really seemed to enjoy them. I could sort of understand why; they were pretty cool. Except that they do the same thing every time.

"_Milk_. The one about the gay American politician," she answered.

"Oh, yeah. I liked that one."

She was silent for a little bit, and then she asked, "Remember when you were holding Victoire? And you said we might have to get a baby?"

Alarmed, I sat up, and the ice from my back hit the floor with a thud. "I changed my mind, remember?" I sputtered, panicking. "I can wait. I can wait a long time."

Hermione laughed. "I didn't mean that, I promise. What I'm getting at is… remember in the film, when White asks Milk if two men can reproduce?"

I didn't have a clue that the guy's name was White – I didn't usually remember details like that. But I vaguely remembered the line, so I nodded. "And Milk says they kept trying."

"You think we should try?"

I stared.

"What the fuck?"

She blushed.

"No, seriously, Hermione. What?"

There was another minute of silence before we both burst out laughing. I couldn't breathe; I was choking; Hermione's face was steadily turning purple. With the little energy I could muster, I threw myself across the room to straddle her in her chair, still laughing.

"Hermione… you… geek!" I managed to get out, unable to giggle, talk, and kiss her at the same time, but still trying pretty hard.

"Don't laugh at me!" she protested, even as tears of mirth ran down her face.

"Merlin, you're adorable!" I gasped. "So goddamned cute…"

I lifted her shirt over her head and pressed my hips down onto her harder. "I'll give you points for creativity, though," I continued, unhooking her bra, "even if the execution was poor."

"And you could do better?" I could hear how deliberately she tried to keep her voice even as my teeth scraped over sensitive spots on her neck.

"I'll show you tomorrow," I promised. "Gods, you're cute…"

Hermione then proceeded to show me just how 'cute' she was.

* * *

Well, 'tomorrow' didn't happen because Hermione and I both arrived home at about the same time. My opportunity came early the next week, when she had a late meeting, which meant that I had time to prepare.

By the time I heard the door open I was handcuffed at both wrists and both ankles to the four-poster bed.

"Gin, I'm home!" her voice called after the door slammed. I heard her footsteps around the flat, looking for me probably, and then they started coming closer to the bedroom.

"Ginny, are you – oh!" she gasped when she saw me lying there. I grinned.

"Hi," I said, chuckling at the look on her face.

"Hi," she breathed. Her bag dropped to the floor. "Is this how you're trying to seduce me?"

Noticing her rapid breathing, already flushed face, and darkened eyes, I asked, "_Trying_? I think I'm seducing you, quite successfully."

"Well, true," she admitted. Quickly she stripped of her clothes and climbed up to sit between my legs. "Er… Gin?"

"Yeah?" my heart was pounding in anticipation and nervousness. I liked having power as much as the next person – actually, Harry and I had tried some pretty kinky shit – but it also turned me on to no end just to submit to whatever the other person wanted.

"This is sort of… kinky," she blushed hotly. "I don't really know…" Her face grew even redder as she looked at me helplessly.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," I hurriedly reassured her. "I thought it'd be fun, but I totally get that it's not everyone's cup of tea."

"No!" she exclaimed, eyes tracing down the length of my body again. "I want to try it, I just… what should I do?"

I grinned; my heart thumped again in excitement. I wanted it so badly. "Anything you want. In case you haven't noticed, you're sort of in power here."

"Yeah," she smiled. "I guess I am."

I could go into all the details, but I don't want to frighten the innocents. Let me just say that Hermione took charge and let herself go for once, and I fucking loved every second. Afterwards, she unlocked the handcuffs with her wand and collapsed next to me.

"So I win, right?" I sighed, settling in close.

"I don't know… chair sex was fun," she sighed wistfully.

I rolled over. "Are you serious? I just fucking handcuffed myself to the bed, and you're questioning whether I win?"

Knowing I wasn't really mad, she laughed. "Maybe we'd better have a rematch."

I started to argue, and then realized the implications of her words. "You know what? That sounds fabulous."

* * *

We spent the entire weekend having our rematch… and then another, and then a tiebreaker, and then a rematch of the tiebreaker. We didn't answer phones or the doorbell or even owls, just went at it like horny little bunny rabbits trying to make a whole army of little bunny rabbit babies. It was possibly the best weekend of my life.

The next day, the sweet old woman from the flat next door came to borrow some milk, and mentioned hearing a continuous pounding on the wall from our room, all throughout the day before.

"Do you girls have any idea what it could be?" she looked oblivious to its real origin, and even a little concerned.

"No idea," I barely managed to get out with a straight face, and then I shut the door.

Hermione and I collapsed on the floor right there next to the front door, and didn't stop laughing for a good ten minutes.


	20. How I Met Her Mother And Father

**A/N: Holy shit I updated! And it's a long one! I'm thinking a chapter and an epilogue after this, folks, so we're near the end! Thanks for sticking with this story!**

**I don't own Harry Potter, I think you should know this by now.**

I was warm and completely comfortable. I could feel the weight of several blankets and Hermione's arm on top of me. Her bare torso was pressed against my back, and I neve r wanted to move.

Which was why I was so annoyed at the phone ringing.

Hermione got up to answer it – we had come to the agreement that she was the phone-answerer, since the only people who used telephones were Muggles and the only one of us who knew any Muggles was Hermione. Besides, it was eight-thirty on a Saturday, and she tended to function better in the morning than I did.

I was nearly asleep again, waiting for her to come back to bed and keep me warm, when I heard her voice and footsteps approaching. We only had one telephone, since we rarely used it, and we kept it in the kitchen. Why she was bringing it into the bedroom I had no idea.

"That sounds great, Mum…" she paused. "Yeah, I can't wait to see them again." I sleepily raised an eyebrow. She smiled, distracted as she listened to what her mother was saying. "Okay… yes. Right."

I rolled my eyes. I could gain nothing about the conversation from these one-word answers.

"Mum, wait… Is it okay if I bring a friend?... Yes, I know she didn't show up last time… Yes, the same one… Thanks, Mum. Tell Dad I love him. Yes. Okay. Love you too. Bye."

As soon as she hung up I held my arms out to her and she slipped between them. Before I could ask, she sighed and said, "Ready for attempt number two at telling my parents?"

The party was a week away from the day we got the phone call, and I spent the entire seven days worrying on at least some level of consciousness. We had made plans to tell them before the whole fight happened, but we were still separated at the time of the party they were having. Now that they'd decided to throw another, Hermione and I had decided to take the chance again. And if I was scared shitless about coming out to two people I'd never even met before, I could only imagine how Hermione must feel – these were her parents. Oh, I pretended I wasn't worried, hoping my fake confidence would fool her and lead her to think positively. But I was fairly certain it wasn't working at all.

The night before the party, she stayed up until one in the morning watching the History Channel (something she tended to do when she was upset). I turned in around eleven, only to wake two hours later and notice I was still alone in bed. When I found her on the sofa watching a documentary on ancient China, I knew she was _really _scared. She sat completely upright and fully awake with her knees pulled up to her chest.

"'Mione," I sighed, slipping in behind her, one leg on each side. I wrapped my arms around her and gently coaxed her to lie back against me. "It's going to be fine."

"I'm scared," was all she said, eyes slipping back towards the television.

I caught her chin in my hand and made her look at me. "They love you," I assured her. "It'll be fine."

Then she didn't say anything, just relaxed against me completely in exhaustion. "I love you," I whispered before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. We stayed like that until it was time to get up.

I had a sense of déjà vu as we got ready for the party that night – I was reminded of the way I had felt at Christmas, before coming out to my family. We dressed silently, not even paying attention to each other's bodies being revealed before our eyes. Hermione wore a white blouse and a high-waisted, shimmery purple skirt with matching heels. I wore slacks and a button down with an elegant silver necklace to make it less masculine. However, that didn't stop Hermione from commenting.

"You look gay," she said with a slight smile tugging at her mouth.

I shrugged. "I could change."

"No!" she said, wrapping her arms around my neck. "I like it." Her voice was low. She was turned on, I could tell. _Me dressing butch is turning her on_, I realized, and stored the information away for future use. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to explore the knowledge now, but I did kiss her softly.

"You ready?" I asked when I pulled away.

She nodded, lacing her fingers with mine. "Let's go."

The party was bearable, I supposed, if a little boring. Hermione's parents were polite when she introduced me; I couldn't help but wonder if they'd be as nice once we told them the truth. But other than worrying about that, I sort of liked watching the people. The Grangers were dentists, and most of the people at the party, I learned, were dentist and doctor friends. Hermione carried on with them, using Muggle terms that I certainly didn't understand, and I imagined most Muggles wouldn't either. It amazed me that after graduating top of her class and remembering every single fact she had ever learnt at Hogwarts, she still hadn't forgotten anything from the Muggle world (and was still, I would guess, a genius by their standards).

So I listened for three hours to how grown-up she looked, and how Mrs. So-and-So's teenage daughter just idolized her, and how her parents must be so proud. They talked about politics too, which bored me, and about doctor stuff, which bored (and frightened) me. I'd always thought of Muggle doctors as a bit barbaric, and though they seemed civilized enough, I had no desire to listen to their conversations about this operation or that risky surgery. I was polite but as quiet as I could get away with – wouldn't do to embarrass myself by pretending to know what I was talking about. They all seemed quite conservative, which worried me a little, but I tried to put it out of my mind.

Finally the last guests had trickled out the door and I was helping Mr. Granger pick up trash in the living room while Hermione cleaned up the kitchen with her mother.

"You're a friend of Hermione's from school, correct?"

I started. Mr. Granger had hardly said a word all night; I wasn't expecting him to address me. "Yes, sir. I think I met you once… school shopping. My dad's a bit eccentric, you might remember…"

He smiled. "W…Weasley, that's it. Lots of brothers?"

"That's right," I grinned back. He was friendly. Maybe this would go better than we had hoped. \

"Hermione spoke of your brother a lot, and that Potter boy. But now that I think about it, she mentioned you just as much… I think it was good for her, that school. She never really fit in to our schools much," he added.

I liked him. He loved Hermione and had obviously paid attention to every word she'd said about Hogwarts. They hadn't just shipped her off and forgotten about her, which I'd sort of assumed when she never mentioned them. They _loved _her. It was going to be okay.

At that moment Mrs. Granger and Hermione walked in from the kitchen. "Well, that's done," the older woman announced, smoothing her dress. She flopped down onto an armchair across from the television, leaving the rest of us to finish the living room.

Hermione and I exchanged small smiles as we gathered up the last few pieces of trash. When they were finally tossed into the garbage bag, we sat down as well. The conversation about Hermione's job (and mine, though I didn't keep my nervous energy in check as well as my girlfriend, so I didn't say much) dragged on and on until I was ready to interrupt and spit it out. But it was Hermione's choice, and I could wait maybe a few minutes longer. Maybe.

Finally she subtly pressed the back of her hand against mine on the couch. "Mum? Dad?"

The introduction seemed a bit superfluous, as she already had their attention, but it was alright. It would be alright. My heart was going to beat out of my chest. _It's alright, Ginny._

"So… er…" she took a deep breath. Hermione at a loss for words? I pressed my hand harder against hers, hoping it would help.

"I'm gay."

In the silence that followed, she let the air rush out of her lungs shakily. When they didn't answer, she added, "And I'm in love with the most wonderful girl in the world." Trembling, her hand slipped into mine.

We waited.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger had been married a long time. They could do that thing with their eyes where old couples can talk without saying anything. I watched, but could interpret nothing. Hermione whimpered beside me, eyes glistening just slightly, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. I wanted to hold her, to kiss her forehead and whisper that it was alright, but in our current vulnerable state, I decided not to push it.

Finally Mrs. Granger spoke. "Well, dear… you're already a witch. You can't really shock us much anymore." She smiled just a little, but it was enough.

I sighed with relief and dropped my head into my hands. Hermione burst into tears.

When I lifted my head and slipped an arm around her, I noticed that her parents hadn't moved. They watched us with unreadable expressions, and I couldn't tell if they were touched or disgusted. They wouldn't disown her, but they didn't completely approve, and all at once I wanted to get out of there.

After Hermione had calmed down a bit, her father asked, "How long has this been going on?"

"I've been in love with her for four years," she choked, took a deep breath, and continued more calmly. "We've been together since before Christmas."

There was no _Oh, pumpkin, why didn't you tell us sooner?_, but there also was no _You sinner! Burn in hell! _or _You disgusting dyke slut!_ I counted my blessings.

They seemed detached. Almost uninterested. They asked if we were living together, if my parents knew, things like that. But they asked in near monotone, polite indifference, as if it was someone else's daughter that had just poured her soul out to them.

When we finally got up to go, they walked us to the door. They hugged Hermione and nodded coolly to me. As we turned to step onto the front porch, Mrs. Granger suddenly said, "Wait!"

We turned. She smiled gently, almost sadly, and said, "Ginny, you really must come for Christmas this year."

I nodded, took Hermione's hand, and stepped outside.

I got in the shower as soon as we were home, turning the water almost hot enough to burn. When I was finished, Hermione was already in bed. Soft sobs were coming from under the covers.

"Baby…" I soothed, slipping in behind her, wrapping my arms around her.

"I don't know what's wrong," she sobbed. "It could be so much worse! I don't… I don't…"

I stopped her. "Shh… It's okay. I know how you feel."

"Ginny… I love you."

Holding her in my arms as she continued to convulse with sobs, I whispered, "I love you too."


	21. How's That for a Plot Twist?

**A/N: Told you I'd update eventually. I get rather evil in this one. Hopefully it will be quicker after this point. I definitely have an idea of where I'm going to end this, but I'm iffy on how to get there. Requests for anything you'd like to see before then are welcome :) And please review, I love hearing from you even when I suck at updating!

* * *

**

It was a hot July Sunday a few weeks later, and Hermione and I were sprawled out on the couch, watching the television with the ceiling fan on full speed. We had opened the windows and stripped to shorts and tank tops, but the air was still scorching. So, when the fire roared to life, we both groaned.

"Sorry," Abby's head apologized as it appeared in the fireplace. "I know it's bloody boiling out."

"S'alright," I murmured, sitting up and wiping a hand over my forehead. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Do you mind if I come all the way in? This is _not_ comfortable at all."

After a quick glance to confirm with Hermione, I nodded back. "Go for it." Her head disappeared and after a few seconds her body came spinning into view.

"Hi, Gin!" she smiled and hugged me, then greeted Hermione the same way. "How are you girls?"

"It's bloody disgusting out," I groaned. "Can you imagine practicing in this tomorrow?"

Abby rolled her eyes in distaste. "I know. Macy keeps trying to stand in the refrigerator." We all laughed, and then she added, "So, sorry to use the Floo and make it even hotter in here, but I wanted to ask you as soon as possible… I've got a bunch of tickets to the Cup, Macy's dad sets up all of their advertising. Did you girls want any?"

My mouth fell open. "No way! Are you kidding?"

She shook her head. "Dead serious. I've got plenty."

Then I remembered myself. "Well… Hermione doesn't really like Quidditch…"

"Unless you're playing," she was quick to correct me. Abby pretended to gag at us, then giggled. "But I think I could enjoy myself. Don't turn her down just because of me, love."

I tackled her. "I love you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Pushing me away, she laughed, "Gross! You're all sweaty. Go thank Abby!"

"That's okay!" the blonde quickly stepped back. "You don't have to thank me. I'm just _so_ happy making you two happy." She continued to back away as I slowly stepped closer and closer.

"Gin, leave the poor girl alone," Hermione laughed, collapsing back onto the couch and turning back to the telly, looking like a mum leaving her kids to play.

"Fine," I sighed, leaving off with the pursuit. "But seriously, thank you so much, Abby."

"It's no problem. I've actually got eight tickets, and Macy just wants two extra for some friends, so if you had anyone else in mind…"

"You know who would probably really love to come? If you don't mind?" I quickly added. "Harry Potter."

She raised her eyebrows. "I love how you just throw that name around like it's nothing. But yeah, he can have two tickets if he wants them. Here." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bundle of tickets. "Do you want to take them to him?"

"Yeah, I'll go after work tomorrow. This is so great, thanks again." I started walking slowly towards her again, watching her eyes widen as she backed against the wall. "I don't know how to thank you enough." And I finally captured her in a huge sweaty hug.

The next day I went to deliver the tickets. I stood at the door to Grimmauld Place for a long time after knocking, and had started to wonder if maybe Harry wasn't home, when the door finally opened. Harry stood before me in a pair of green boxers.

"Oh." He blushed immediately. "Sorry, Gin. I thought you were going to be the pizza delivery."

"You ordered pizza."

He nodded.

"You're wearing underwear."

"Right."

I was trying not to look too closely at said underwear, but I couldn't help noticing the light pattern on the fabric.

"Underwear with… the Slytherin crest on them."

"Er… yeah."

I struggled to control myself for a brief second before pouncing on him. "Who is it? Who's here?" When he didn't answer, I had to struggle to breathe through my laughter as I continued to beg him to answer my questions. He tried to be angry at first, I could tell, but it wasn't long before he was laughing with me.

And then someone stepped out of the long hallway into the room, effectively answering my question and taking all humor out of the situation.

He was tall, thin, shirtless and admittedly very sculpted. His face was angular and pale, his white-blond hair falling into his eyes. He had once been the boy that tormented me for six years of schooling. Draco Malfoy was in Harry's house, and Harry was wearing his boxers.

"Erm… okay," was all I could manage to say. Confusion and denial raced through me – _It's a mistake_ and _Harry would never…_ Then, remembering how the blond boy had tormented my family throughout nearly all of my years of schooling, I clenched my hands and stared at Harry, feeling somehow betrayed.

Then, turning to Malfoy, seething with rage and preparing to hex him for – I don't know, corrupting my friend? Sleeping with my ex? – I noticed that he was wearing silk boxers in Gryffindor colours, and I burst out laughing again.

Looking relieved and giggling along with me – God, he was _giggling_; Draco must have been good – Harry opened the arm closest to his former enemy, inviting him closer. He draped the arm over Malfoy's bare shoulders and turned to me.

"Dray, you know Ginny." And in some surreal alternate universe where Harry wore boxers printed with snakes, I shook a shirtless Draco Malfoy's hand. Harry continued, "Gin, Draco's my…" he blushed, pulling away a little and rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, it's new."

As if my day hadn't already been strange enough, Malfoy put on an expression I'd never seen before, and he looked genuinely happy. "Oh, shut up, Harry." He turned to me. "Your 'Boy Who Lived' has terrible manners, but if he would hurry up and ask, I wouldn't be _his… erm…_, I'd be his boyfriend."

And then they kissed.

And then the thought occurred to me that it was afternoon, and they were both wearing just underwear, and it had taken a _really_ long time for Harry to answer the door. Which he thought was a pizza delivery. Which meant that they were barely even stopping for food.

"Okay, well," I stammered hurriedly, feeling my face heat up, "I've only just realised the magnitude of the situation I've interrupted, so…" Turning to leave, I nearly reached the door before I remembered why I had come in the first place. "Harry… my friend had some extra tickets to the Cup. She asked if I knew anyone who'd want to come, and I told her I thought you'd love to."

"Wow, thanks!" he grinned, though he was still red in the face as well. When I handed him the two tickets, he hesitated, and his eyes briefly flickered between the slips of paper, Malfoy, and me. "Gin, could we… get coffee or something? To talk about…"

I cut him off. "Harry, don't worry about any of it. Bring Draco to the Cup, and we can all… get to know him better there."

And then, offering the best smile I possible could under the circumstances, I left as fast as I could.

"'Mione, they were acting like us," I groaned, snuggling into her side under the covers. "All _happy_ and disgustingly sweet and I felt like I was in some other universe."

"D'you think you could get them to take a photo in their underwear like you saw them today?" she murmured, sleepily and obviously not as disturbed as I was.

"It's not funny!" Even with this exclamation, I struggled not to laugh. "It's not that I don't want him to be happy, it's just… it's _Malfoy!_"

"You'd better be nice to him at the match," she frowned. "I can't imagine any of his family or friends being very happy with this relationship; as Harry's friends we have to support both of them. Think how we felt at the beginning."

I knew she was right. But I still didn't like it. I said nothing, only heaved a huge sigh and nuzzled even closer.

"Sure," she continued, "it's unexpected. But then, who could have predicted that you and I would get together?"

Finally allowing myself to smile, I slipped my hand into hers. "I always knew."


	22. Not Sure How I Feel About This Universe

**a/n: How's that for an update? And it's long, too. HUGE thanks to those that have reviewed - JUJUChick16, drdj2006, and fantasylover42. For the rest of you - I see the traffic. I see all of the Story Alerts and the Favorites. And I'm certainly thankful for them. But, pretty please, can you take a few seconds to type a short review? It would make me really happy.**

**Also, for the smut chasers (because, interestingly enough, I noticed that the smut chapter had significantly more hits than others... hmmm...) I'm baiting you. Yes, there's a little something in here, as in I'M WHORING FOR REVIEWS. Make it worth my while and there's more where this came from :)**

**And, with my admission of being a complete and total whore, done, here's Chapter 21.**

"Oh, my God," I said aloud from the shower.

"Did you say something?" Hermione was fixing her makeup in the mirror.

"I said 'Oh, God,'" I repeated. "We're going to the Burrow."

"That was the plan."

"_He's_ going to be there."

"Well, it's his birthday," she laughed, and I saw her turn towards me through the steamy glass door of the shower.

"Not Harry," I sighed impatiently. "_Him_."

She laughed again. "He has a name. To be honest I'm more than a little uneasy myself, but please be nice. For Harry."

I shut off the water. I had rushed home from Quidditch practice so I could get cleaned up for Harry's birthday party at the Burrow that night. Harry's birthday had always been mostly a Weasley affair in the past, so I hadn't made the connection that Malfoy would be there until just now.

With a groan, I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out. "Fine."

"I mean it," she added, pulling me close to her by the towel and toying with the end wrapped around my chest. "Promise?"

I took a deep breath. She was standing really close and with one motion she could easily rip off the towel. "Promise," I breathed out.

"Good," she smiled at me, sliding her hand inside the towel to rest it on my stomach. "I love you."

I kissed her. "Love you too," I breathed, before pushing her back and up onto the counter. Letting my towel fall to the floor, I kissed her and tugged at the tie of her robe.

"Ginny…" she giggled as I moved my lips to her collarbone. "We have…. We have to go."

"Mmhmm," I agreed, running my hands over her body as I exposed it by pulling the robe off her shoulders. "But I'm going to need extra help getting through tonight if Malfoy's going to be there." It was obvious by her hitched breath that she wasn't listening, so I bit lightly on her shoulder. "Babe."

"Mmm?"

I didn't really have anything more to say, though, so I palmed her breast gently and gained another gasp.

"Stop," she giggled in a way that would have made a younger Hermione blush. "You'll make us late."

"Then why are your nipples already so hard?" She moaned at the words and looked down as if to make sure they were true. Upon seeing that they were, she just kissed me and I felt her body soften against me. "Good choice," I murmured. "Since you're cooperating with me, I'll be nice and not make you wait." Slipping two fingers inside her and curling them upwards, I added, "'Cause I know how you hate to be late."

She fell forward against my shoulder and rode my hand eagerly, for all the protests moments before. I trailed my free hand up and down her back, loving the way she shivered in response. Supporting her weight with that arm, I couldn't move too much, so I just pressed kisses to the side of her face, over her cheek and forehead.

"Gin – Ginny," she gasped, "You… are impossible."

"I love you too," I panted with the effort of supporting her.

"I'm going to…" Silencing her with a kiss on the lips, I got one last thrust of my hand in before she moaned, clenched around me and rocked her hips harder against my hand, riding it out. When she was finished, I kept smoothing my left hand up and down her back, waiting for her to get her breath back.

Finally her breathing slowed enough for me to reasonably feel that she could support her own weight, so I lifted her off of the bathroom counter and set her on the floor in front of me, still leaning against it. Her head was still tilted down and her eyes closed, but I gently tipped her face up to look at me.

"I love you," I said again softly.

She blew out a long deep breath, draped her arms over my shoulders, and whispered against my neck "I love you too."

A few minutes later she added, "But you still have to be nice to Draco."

So we went. And we showed up late, so Hermione was practically twitching as we walked in. "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley," she apologized hastily. "We got… caught up at home."

"Not to worry, dear," she smiled at us. "And Hermione, please, call me Molly!"

"See?" I whispered in her ear on our way in to the living room. "You survived being late."

"Barely. Now it's your turn to survive," she added, tilting her head in Malfoy's direction. "And be nice!"

"Happy birthday, Harry!" we chorused, moving to hug him.

"Ginny, Hermione!" He returned the hugs and gave us a nervous, plastered-on smile. "Thanks. You know Draco." Hermione shook his hand with a pleasant expression, but I saw her wince when their hands first touched.

"Harry, where is everyone?" I asked, noticing a definite lack of Weasleys in the room.

Malfoy's hand came up to rub his boyfriend's shoulder gently as Harry explained, "They're all in the kitchen. Plotting how to get Draco out of here, I'm sure."

"Oh, gods." I pictured Ron, Fred, and George doing their best (or worst) and glanced at Malfoy. "You should probably get out of here," I advised him. "I mean, you've seen my brothers."

He shook his head. "I'll stay. It's Harry's birthday."

In disbelief, I glanced at Hermione and watched the corners of her mouth turn up. I was still skeptical, but my level of approval had risen a little, even without my consent.

The rest of the party was slightly, but only slightly better than disastrous. Mum was nice enough, because to her Harry could do no wrong, and Dad mostly went along with her, though I could tell whenever Draco's mannerisms reminded him of Lucius, because he would twitch a little. Bill and Charlie and their respective wives hadn't known Malfoy when he was a prat, so they didn't care as much. But my three youngest brothers didn't even come into the room, except to steal cake and sneak it out to the backyard. And then, of course, Fred had to conveniently trip in Draco's direction and "accidently" throw the cake in his face. George offered to help him clean it up – and did so with an enthusiastic "Aguamenti" that left him sputtering. Ron didn't say a word to Harry all day.

When Hermione finally decided we had spent enough time there to be considered polite, we said goodbye to Harry. She hugged him tight and whispered something to him; I couldn't hear what, but he smiled a little and thanked her. When she went to say goodbye to Draco, he offered a hand, but she hugged him too. Harry saw me smiling at their exchange, and nudged me.

"I'm sorry for all this… I know it's got to be hard for you. But thank you for being nice to him," he sighed.

I swatted him in the arm. "Don't apologise! He seems like… he's changed. And even if he hadn't, you couldn't help if you fell for him."

Without a reply, he hugged me tight. "Thanks," he whispered again when he finally let me go.

"It's going to be okay."

His eyes flickered towards Draco and Hermione, who were still engaged in conversation. "Yeah." He seemed unsure, but then, I was only saying it to make him feel better. I, of all people, knew how stubborn Weasleys could be.

"Right, well. Bye." I turned to Draco, swallowed hard and slowly moved to hug him, ready to pull back if he exclaimed anything about blood traitors. But he didn't, his arms wrapped around me and I tried really hard not to think about how weird it was that I was hugging him.

Hermione squeezed my hand and smiled at me when the awkward hug ended. "Well, we'll be going then."

"Can't wait to see you two at the Cup," I added.

We said goodbye to Mum and Dad then, and Mum of course pulled me into the kitchen to send us home with some cake, while Dad asked Hermione to come see some Muggle batteries he was tinkering with. Fifteen minutes later we finally really did leave.

"Oh, my God…" I slumped on the couch of our living room in defeat. "What universe am I living in?"

"It's okay," Hermione draped herself gracefully over me. "Whatever universe it is, I'm in it."

"Oh?" I smirked. "Bit cocky, are we?"

"Maybe a little."

"Okay, well, this is going to ruin the mood, but I have to tell you something serious."

"That's my job."

"Hermione!" She looked properly humbled, so I continued. "When you hugged Malfoy today… it sort of made me love you about five thousand times more."

"You did the same thing." But she was blushing anyway. "I'm sure it really means a lot to Harry."

"Yeah." She lay quietly on top of me for a while, threading her fingers through my hair. "Now," I stretched after waking from a short doze. "Remind me what mood I ruined earlier…"

"You pig," she laughed, but she still reminded me.


	23. Birthday Surprises

**A/N: Okay, I don't own, please review, thank you to those that did for the last chapter! There be SEX here, ye be warned. Also excessive fluff.**

**Apparently Crookshanks doesn't exist in this world, also.**

* * *

"What do you want for your birthday?" Hermione asked me over dinner one night the next week.

"Oh," I looked up. "I guess I hadn't even thought about it. I dunno, you don't have to get me anything. I mean, I'm a grown-up."

"Really? Of course I'm getting you something," she said dismissively. "If you don't have any ideas I'll just figure something out."

"You know," I teased, "There is something I've always wanted, my whole life. But I don't think it would fit in the flat."

"A dragon?" she guessed, grinning at me.

I shook my head. "A pony."

With another smile, she replied, "Well, no, I don't suppose we have room for one. Sorry, love."

"I'll live, somehow," I sighed dramatically, standing to clear our plates.

* * *

"Happy birthday, beautiful," Hermione's voice whispered in my ear, pulling me from unconsciousness. She was warm against my back, and I turned, seeking her lips with mine, keeping my eyes shut against the bright morning light. She allowed me a brief kiss before pulling back.

"No fair," I murmured, snuggling closer to her. "It's my birthday…"

"Oh, fine," she laughed softly. I felt her lips on my forehead, then my cheeks; I whimpered until she finally complied and covered my own. The kiss was soft and gentle, but enough to get me awake and steadily heading towards _worked up_. Steadily and quickly.

When Hermione finally pulled back again, I opened my eyes for the first time. "I love you," I whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for the nice wakeup."

"Well, there's more where that came from," she smirked and traced a finger down my arm.

"Presents?" I teased.

Hermione leaned in close again. "If that's what you want," she murmured against my lips.

"Please," I gasped before pressing my mouth to hers.

She rolled over so she was on top of me, leaving my mouth to kiss up to my ear and take my earlobe between her teeth.

"Gods," I managed to breathe, slipping a hand up her shirt in the back, trailing it over her soft skin. 'Mione had been good from the first time we'd slept together, but as her confidence grew, she learned all sorts of new ways to make me weak in the knees. Like _that._

"Oh, Merlin, do that again," I whispered, half-moaning and half-laughing as I tried to touch more of her skin. She obliged, and I squirmed at the feeling of her tongue. "'Mione…"

Her hand slid under the hem of my shirt, trailing gently over my stomach in a gesture that would have been soothing if not for the slight, maddening pressure of her nails. My hips bucked immediately in response, and, taking pity, she pulled the shirt off over my head, pausing in her kisses to allow me to do the same. I took advantage of the fact that neither of us wore a bra to sleep and threw my arms around her, rolling over to pin her under me and press our breasts together, sighing at the feeling.

"Gin," she smiled, panting a little. "You're supposed to let me be on top. I'm supposed to do the work today."

I smirked, pinning her wrists above her with one hand and dragging the nails of the other sharply down the side of her ribs. "You don't know me at all, then, do you, love?"

"Ginny!" she squealed, wriggling under me. "Please…"

"Hm," I laughed against the salty skin of her neck, flicking my tongue out to taste it. My hands trailed over the waistband of her pyjama pants, and her hips rolled underneath me. But she still wasn't giving in, and now that her hands were free, she pulled me under her again, stripping me of my sweatpants in the same movement.

Determined this time to stay on top, Hermione attacked, and suddenly her lips were everywhere, on my face first and then tracing a burning hot line down my body, pausing to leave bruising marks on my chest.

I cried out as her teeth sunk into the skin below my breast, her tongue immediately laving over the sore spot. She looked up suddenly. "Did I hurt you?"

"Don't stop," I shook my head, sliding a hand through her hair. "_Please_."

"Okay," she panted breathlessly and nodded, but didn't move for a moment. Her eyes bore into mine, almost scarily, searching hard enough to make me uncomfortable.

"What?" I squirmed under her, still combing through her hair with my fingers.

She shook her head. "I love you."

Still confused by the rawness of the moment, I replied, "I love you, too," but she had already returned to pressing her lips down my stomach.

The second I felt her hot breath on my inner thighs my arousal heightened tenfold, and I knew I was about to come embarrassingly quickly. I tried to warn her but I suddenly found I was unable to form words as her tongue flicked over my clit. She did it again, and I made a sort of strangled grunting sound, but still no words.

Finally she settled into a rhythm and added three fingers to the sensations already driving me crazy. _Then_ I found I could speak, but only one word filled my mind.

"_Mione!_" I gasped, over and over, searching for her free hand under the sheets. I found it and grasped it tightly, clinging, slick with sweat and shaking from the feelings she was causing to rush through my body. She squeezed my hand and mumbled something against my clit, and the vibrations pushed me screaming over the edge.

I don't think I passed out exactly, but I certainly wasn't at full consciousness for a good long while. When I finally became aware of Hermione's lips murmuring soft phrases against my temple, and her hand resting protectively on my stomach, I sighed and rolled over to face her.

"Wow," I smiled, looking at her for a moment before kissing her gently. I pulled away fairly quickly – after an orgasm that strong, I was definitely not ready for more yet. "Are you okay? You seem…"

She smiled. "I'm fine. Sorry, I got distracted. Well, I realized something."

"What?"

"I love you," she laughed.

"You realized you loved me?"

"This is me avoiding the question, love," she snuggled closer. "I'll tell you soon, I promise. Aren't I allowed to have secrets on your birthday?"

* * *

After all that, both of us were late for work, but Gwenog didn't chew me out too badly. The day flew by, and it was made even better when I stepped off the pitch to see Hermione waiting for me on the sidelines.

"Hi, beautiful," I greeted her as she dodged my sweaty hug.

"No, you don't! I'm all ready, I don't need to be sweated on. Here," she added, handing me a duffel bag that I presumed was filled with nice clothes. "We're going out for dinner."

"Ooh, surprises," I grinned. "Okay. I'll be presentable soon, just wait right there."

Dinner was delicious, and apparently Hermione had arranged to have my dessert brought out with a candle. I pretended to be embarrassed, but I was secretly delighted. We walked home; the night had cooled off enough. She held my hand the whole way.

"Ugh," I groaned as soon as we entered the flat. "I'm stuffed. Bed good."

"Wait," she whispered, pulling on my hand. "Don't you want your presents?"

As she led me into the living room, I replied, "I thought dinner with you was my present… or this morning."

She blushed a little. "Those too, but I had to get you _something_ else."

"Some_things_," I remarked when I saw the three boxes on the fireplace.

"Do the smallest one first," she instructed me.

The smallest one was a necklace, a dark silver chain that wove itself into a pattern of flowers in the front, encasing small sparkling stones in its loops.

"It's beautiful," I smiled. "Put it on me?"

As soon as it was on, she added excitedly, "Do the next one."

The box of middle size contained a dozen vanilla-scented candles. "They're just Muggle candles," she explained, "But I like the way they burn better than enchanted ones."

"They're perfect," I assured her, lifting one to my nose to smell it better. "We should light them tonight…"

"Wait, you vixen," she laughed. "There's one more. Careful with this one." Lifting the largest box from the fireplace slowly, she handed it to me very carefully.

"It has air holes," I noticed with immediate concern.

"Right. Don't worry, though," she added, "I didn't just leave it here this whole time. Harry brought it over for me just before we got home."

"Okay," I nodded, still confused, and lifted the lid off gently.

There was a tiny black and white kitten sleeping in the box.

I gasped. "'Mione!" Setting the box down gently, I squealed and tacked her. "It's adorable! It? He? She?"

"It's a she," Hermione replied, grinning, obviously nearly as excited as I was. "I'm glad you like her."

"Did you name her yet?" I asked, reaching into the box to stroke the kitten's soft fur.

"Well," she joined me, stretching out on her stomach and peering into the box, "I did sort of look for some names. I looked at Greek mythology. But she's yours; you should name her."

"Ours," I grinned at her. "Did you find any you liked?"

"Well, Echo was a nymph, you know, the one who loved Narcissus? That would be cute. Or Rumor, who was a messenger. But we don't have to pick one from mythology. When I was younger I always wanted a cat named Pippa."

"Aw," I sighed, nearly overcome with the cuteness of it all. "Rumor?" I tried, whispering to the kitten, who didn't stir. "Echo? Pippa?" I scooped her up, still sleeping deeply. "We can wait. Come to bed with me," I offered my free hand to Hermione, "And we can see if she'll respond to any of the names when she's awake."

"You know," Hermione added once we were in bed, the nameless kitten snuggled between us, "Cats generally don't respond. If you wait for that she might never get a name."

I shrugged. "I'm too tired and happy to pick now," I laughed. "Kiss me and then I'm going to sleep."

"Happy birthday," she murmured, and then kissed me softly. "'Night."

* * *

**A/N: See how strategic I am? I didn't name her so you can pick! Out of the three here -Rumor, Echo, & Pippa- what do you all like? Let me know, and majority wins!**


	24. A Fun ? Time at the QWC

**A/N: Alright, well, according to popular demand, the kitty's name is Echo! I got a nice number of reviews voting on the name... wouldn't it be nice if I could get that many this time too? *hint, hint* Enjoy this one! I expect it'll be over before you know it.**

**PS I don't own it.**

* * *

The night before the cup, Abby sent an owl advising us to dress in cool clothing – she didn't know precisely where our prearranged Portkey would be taking us, but Macy's dad had hinted that it would be somewhere quite warm. We sent the owl on its way quickly after retrieving the message; Echo, as we had named the kitten, wasn't too fond of owls. Or perhaps she was overly fond, but either way, owls generally didn't want to play with her as much as she wanted to play with them.

"Good thing we got her before deciding to get an owl," I grinned at Hermione as I teased Echo with a beam of light from the tip of my wand.

"We _ought_ to get one, though, don't you think? Once she's grown up a little," she added.

I shrugged. "Probably. But we do well enough without. We do have a nice fireplace."

"Speaking of which," Hermione said suddenly, "I'll pass on that wardrobe information to Harry." But she made no move to get up, choosing to stay and watch Echo play instead.

After a few minutes, when she still didn't get up, I teased, "Can't take your eyes off us, eh?"

"My two favorite girls," she shrugged. "You're almost as cute as the kitty is." Then she did get up, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before heading to the fireplace. "I'll be back."

I stuck my tongue at her on the way out. As soon as she was gone, however, I whispered confidentially to Echo, "You _are_ way cuter than me. Just don't tell Hermione I admitted it."

The Portkey departed from inside Abby and Macy's house early the next morning, which was much easier than trekking through the woods to find it like the last time. At six forty-two we were all gathered around a cracked water pitcher – Abby, Macy, Harry, Draco, Hermione and me, and another young couple, Macy's friends.

"Okay, does everyone have everything?" Macy was frantic.

"We're all ready, sweetheart," Abby assured her, rubbing a hand up and down her girlfriend's back. "Portkeys make her crazy," she added for everyone else's benefit. Macy shoved her gently, then glanced at her watch.

"It's time!" she announced. We all moved in to touch the pitcher, and then we were gone.

We landed, quite literally, in the middle of the Sahara desert.

Once we figured out where we were, Hermione was thrilled. "Ginny, do you think we could stay a little longer after the Cup? Please?"

"And do what?" I laughed. "Yeah, it's cool that we're here, but it's the Sahara desert… what do you actually _do_?"

"Watch Quidditch!" Harry exclaimed, and everyone except Hermione cheered. I laughed at her lack of enthusiasm and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Thank you" – I kissed her again – "thank you" – and again – "thank you," I said as we continued to walk towards the pitch. With each kiss I moved closer to her lips, finally kissing her full on. "You don't know how much I appreciate your putting up with a whole day of Quidditch for me."

She squeezed my shoulder and grimaced. "I'd tell you not to worry about it, but I'd much rather make you show me how much you appreciated it later tonight," she winked.

"I can do that," I assured her and hugged tighter around our shoulders as we neared the stands.

When Abby had said Macy's dad had put together _all_ of the advertising, she'd apparently meant it, because the box she led us to was huge. All eight of us that had departed from my teammate's flat fit inside easily, plus Macy's parents, their friends, and what seemed to be a large group of business associates. There was also a large bar with assorted drinks and plenty of food. The side of the room that faced the field was all window (including a section of the ceiling) and was equipped with enough couches and armchairs to seat us all, on several different levels of raised platforms so everyone would be able to see.

As the eight of us entered the room, we all (minus Hermione) proceeded to stare in awe.

There was a good hour or so before the match was due to start, so we all met Macy's parents and thanked them, chatted with some of the other guests in the box (apparently being the Boy Who Lived and a chaser for the Harpies are great conversation starters) and started loading up on food. At the end of the bar there was a stack of souvenir programs free for the taking, courtesy of the Cup organizers. I may have taken two or three, but come on – I brought _Draco_, for Merlin's sake. I had to get back on my brothers' good sides somehow.

Just before the announcer's magnified voice echoed through the stadium declaring that there were five minutes left to game time, a balding man and what appeared to be his young daughter approached where Hermione and I were sitting.

"Excuse me," the girl interrupted our conversation nervously. She looked to be about ten or eleven, perhaps about to start her first year at Hogwarts. "Miss Weasley, could I have your autograph, please? You're my favorite player on the Harpies."

I shared an incredulous glance at Hermione before smiling at the girl. "Of course," I agreed, taking her parchment and pen from her. "What's your name?"

"It's Josie," she replied excitedly, grinning up at her dad.

"Well, Josie," I said as I finished signing, "If you're collecting autographs, you might want to go ask that man over there," I gestured to Harry. "That's Harry Potter."

"Wow," she laughed. "This is more exciting than the match is going to be!" She started to make her way towards Harry and Draco's table, but stopped and turned back suddenly. "I still think you're more exciting than Harry Potter, too!" Then she blushed and hurriedly dragged her dad away.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Quidditch," she sighed. "Some people really need to get their priorities in order."

"Can't I just enjoy the moment?" I pushed her gently. But she was right – I would never consider myself more "exciting" than the champion of the wizarding world. However, Josie's compliment was not the most surprising I received that day.

To be honest, the match was not great.

Since Quidditch matches will continue as long as the Snitch has not been caught, it's fairly common for games to last days, sometimes even weeks. This one was not quite that bad, but it did drag on for hours, and it was a very low-scoring game. Both teams made numerous stupid mistakes, leaving Hermione bewildered at "how anyone could enjoy this!" and the rest of us cringing every few seconds.

"This is murder," Draco shook his head after watching a chaser drop the Quaffle for the sixth time. Hermione and Harry had gone to get drinks, leaving me alone with him. "Your semi-finals match was much better."

I gaped at him for a few seconds. _Did Draco just compliment me?_ That might be a little rude to ask, though, so I settled on, "You were there?"

He nodded. "The Harpies have played great games all season. I've heard rumors that England's been scouting at some of them."

"But _you've_ been coming to our games? Don't you hate the Harpies?" I vaguely remembered some rude comments about the all-women's team back when we were in school.

Grinning apologetically, he replied, "I hated them because a bunch of girls were playing better than me. But really, it's a great team. Especially this year."

Harry and Hermione returned then, bearing fresh drinks for Draco and me as well. "Are you two playing nice?" Harry teased, grasping Draco's hand on top of the table.

"Surprisingly so," I remarked, still stunned.

Well, the game eventually ended, and the eight of us took a Portkey back to Abby and Macy's apartment. From there, we all headed to Diagon Alley for drinks to celebrate the match (or perhaps, the end of the match). Everyone was engaged in a lively conversation about the numerous comical mistakes made by both teams, but I noticed Hermione looked bored and exhausted.

"You ready to go, love?" I whispered in her ear, gently rubbing the back of her neck.

"No," she frowned, sitting up a little straighter and reaching for her drink. "Stay with your friends, I'm fine."

"I'd love to get out of here," I assured her. "Some quiet time sounds nice after today."

With a relieved smile, she nodded. "Thank you."

So we said our goodbyes and headed home, where a warm bed and kitty snuggles awaited us.


	25. An Even Better Birthday

**A/N: Yay for updates! Inspiration for this one is really waning, but I have an ending in mind that shouldn't be too many chapters away. Thanks for anyone who's stuck with me!**

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"Shit," I muttered, flapping my hand in the air a few times to ease the pain of the burn I had just received. This would never have happened if I'd just used magic like a normal person.

See, after the incredible birthday Hermione had planned for me, and then when she'd dragged herself to the Quidditch World Cup just for me, I knew I had to make her birthday that September perfect. I could have done the whole thing by magic in a few minutes, but when she had during my lunch break at Quidditch practice to let me know that she would have to work late, I knew I would be too excited for her surprises to wait. To pass the time until she got home, I decided to get everything ready without using magic. I started dinner (which was still in the oven) without incident, but when I started setting up the candles (the ones she had gotten me for my birthday) in our bedroom, I had one of my fingers too close to the flame of the lighter.

After digging around for some burn salve and applying it to my hand, I felt much better, and finished setting up the room. I checked the clock; setting up the flat the Muggle way had ended up taking just the right amount of time, and with her late hours, Hermione would be home any minute. I changed my clothes quickly, did a quick sweep of the living room to make sure Echo was still in her carrier (all the candles plus a hyper kitten was a potentially disastrous combination) and lit one more candle, which I set on the kitchen table. Then I checked on dinner again, and I heard Hermione at the door, probably trying to figure out why her key wouldn't open it.

The people who had made the door had apparently decided that the regular lock wasn't enough, and had added a deadbolt that could only be undone from the inside, even if the person outside had a key. Hermione and I had never used it, but I did today, so that I could be sure that I would surprise her instead of the other way around.

"Ginny?" she called out. "Are you in there?"

"Just a second," I yelled back. Moments later I greeted her at the door, all the lights in the flat off, the candle in my hands the only way for us to see each other.

"Oh, wow," she breathed, and, not to be conceited, but I had to agree with her. I had changed out of my "lazing about" clothes into a deep green satin negligee and black heels. My hair was the one thing I had used magic to do, quickly cleaning it and making sure it was sleek and straight again after a day at practice.

"Happy birthday, love," I smiled sweetly at her.

"Er – " she hesitated. "Suddenly I'm feeling underdressed. Or is that overdressed?"

"I can fix that," I smirked, pulling her inside gently and urging her to drop her bag. "Dinner first, or after?"

"You made dinner?"

"You seem surprised," I teased.

Hermione smiled radiantly. "No. Only very lucky."

I pulled her in for a kiss, and we mutually decided that dinner could wait.

After our first round of lovemaking, I remembered dinner in the oven and ran naked to the kitchen to try and salvage part of it. Most of the lasagna was past hope, but after it cooled I would be able to scoop out some of the middle and throw out the burnt edges. Since Echo was put away, I left it uncovered on the countertop and returned to Hermione.

"Is it burnt horribly?" she asked as I snuggled back into her side.

"Some of it's salvageable," I admitted. "I tried, though."

"Mmmm," she sighed, stretching. "I personally think you did very well. The candles, the nightgown –"

"The expensive nightgown that's now in shreds," I added.

"Yes, well, it's my birthday," she replied with a shit-eating grin she could only have learned from me.

"Oh, shut up, you," I muttered, and kissed her again.

Some time later, as her breathing began to slow, Hermione exclaimed, "This is the best birthday ever!"

"And we haven't even got to the presents," I teased.

"Well, we're very behind schedule. You know, we haven't even properly used your birthday presents yet." She gestured around to the candles still burning around the room.

I bit my lip. She was wearing the look on her face that meant I was really in for it.

"Uh," I hesitated, but Hermione had already rolled over and stretched out an arm to grab one of the candles from the bedside table.

"Uhhh," I groaned out a moment later as she tipped the candle slightly and let the wax fall onto my stomach.

She pulled back immediately. "Does it hurt? Crap, I'm so –"

Mindful of the flame, I silenced her with a kiss, the hardening wax cracking on my stomach as I sat up slightly. Drops that hadn't solidified yet trickled down my sides and fell to the mattress. "I like it," I assured her. "It's really nice."

She smiled in relief. "Oh, good. Then could I… continue?"

"Oh, yes," I sighed, lying back again. The pain and then cooling of the wax was a strange sensation, but I definitely knew that it was one I wanted to feel more of.

"Okay." She nodded a little nervously, but then smiled again. I could tell she was getting into it, starting to anticipate what was to come. I squirmed at the smirk blooming on her face.

Hermione leaned down to kiss me lightly, pulling away immediately when I arched into her. I groaned at the loss of contact, but she just lifted her hand and tipped the candle again.

A thin stream of hot wax dripped onto my upper belly, drizzling from side to side over my ribs. Pain flared momentarily in my skin and then cooled, leaving me with ever-growing arousal in its wake. Hermione's fingers trailed over the wax shell, and I could feel the sensation dully through the surface.

"More," I whispered, tugging gently at her wrist. The candle tipped again, and the wax poured into the hollow between my breasts.

This time I squirmed at the heat so concentrated in one place, but Hermione's tongue trailing up the side of my neck was enough to take the worst of the pain away. She scooped her fingers into the still-soft wax between my breasts and rubbed it over my nipples.

I lie there basking in the feeling until it was completely cool, and then I reached out and took the candle from her.

"Come here, birthday girl."

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